


Fun in the Dating House

by DoNotCollect200DollarsPls (go2jail)



Series: Dream SMP Mafia AU [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF, the dream smp - Fandom
Genre: Banter during sex, Crime Lord! Jschlatt, DadSchlatt, Dream City AU, Hooker!Quackity, M/M, Power Bottom! Quackity, Quackity has a gun kink, Quackity has an Anger Kink, Quackity is a Brat, Top! JSchlatt, lots of banter, lots of flirting, quackity gives schlatt a show, tubbo is adorable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:40:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28104096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/go2jail/pseuds/DoNotCollect200DollarsPls
Summary: "It was Quackity's time on stage now. He debated snorting a quick line, but he wanted to be clean for this. Well, as clean as he already was. He strutted onto stage reaching his hand lazily towards the bar. It was a change from his usual act. His persona was usually much more energetic: He would jump around the stage, reach straight for the pole, and do everything with lewd abandon. But tonight he had an agenda. He scanned the crowd, and low and behold, Schlatt was still sitting where he was before. One hand was rested confidently behind his head, the other was holding onto his nearly empty wine bottle. Some other employee was all over him, but he didn't seem to care. His eyes were locked onto the performer."Quackity and Schlatt have fun in the back room of a gay bar.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity/Jschlatt
Series: Dream SMP Mafia AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2089374
Comments: 81
Kudos: 819





	1. Back Room Show

**Author's Note:**

> *Obligatory "I don't ship them as real people" thing*

"Yeah baby, shake that ass for me!"

It was Saturday, the raunchiest night at the Dating House. Quackity was in his element, albeit a bit tired and worn out. He knew he would have to dip into his backup stash of powder in a bit, considering he was next up on stage. Usually he would love shaking his ass at whoever would pay, but today he just felt off. 

He continued to put on a show for whoever he was giving the lap dance to, not even bothering to check the low-paying customer. The lowlife wasn't even giving him any tips. He felt the slap of his thigh indicate the end of this session, and Quackity quickly moved to jumped off, eager to dip into his stash of white powder. However, he felt himself being pulled back onto the lap of his customer, almost cuddled by the older, muscular arms. 

Quackity let out a mental sigh. "Sorry babe, but that's time!" Quackity tried to respond in as flirtatious and disarming way as possible. Any physical touching that was unwarranted by the worker himself was a strict no-no in the Dating House, but he didn't want to cause a scene. It wasn't the first time someone had tried to overstay their time, especially in such a low-life side of town. 

"You're gonna stay here for as long as I fuckin' want, bitch," the man responded, holding him more tightly. The more his grip tightened, the less Quackity could breath. He smelled the thick scent of pure sweat and alcohol wafting from the man's words. 

Quackity would have usually given in, but today he decided, fuck it. The guy paid the bare minimum and treated him like shit, so he didn't mind calling security and getting him kicked to the curb. Raising his voice, and waving over security, he shouted, "I said get the fuck off of me idiota!"

The more he struggled, the tighter the man's grip got. Quackity was starting to get worried now; he had never had to deal with a customer who was so rough. He felt words being whispered into his ear, the customer's breath a mist of the lowest quality liquor. "You're gonna fuckin' regret this, slut." With that, he was suddenly let go, the weight of his struggle almost making him fall to the other side. 

With fight or flight pumping through his veins, he turned to face the man in question. "The fuck is the matter with you-"

And that's when he saw. The man in question looked simultaneously healthy and sick. His body seemed to be made purely of muscle, while also looking incredibly malnourished. The alcohol that sat wedged between the arm of the chair and the customer's body wasn't from the House, but was a specially brewed recipe, one that only one person on this planet was allowed to drink from. The man sitting in front of Quackity, now with a smug, daring expression, was none other than Jay Schlatt himself. 

Quackity looked to either side of the House, noticing now that no pimps had come to his aid. He was alone, right in front of the Lord of Crime, who he had just pissed off. If it was any other circumstance, Quackity may have been a bit turned on by being so close to someone so strong. He would have possibly offered a discount into one of their back rooms. But instead, he just stood there, silent, like a deer in headlights.

Schlatt, seeming unfazed, stared up at the silent hooker. "What, you spooked? You wanna drop down, suck me off, try and make me feel better?" He moved leaned forward in his chair and rested his elbows on his knees. "Or do you wanna run? Either way," he leaned back, with a big smile on his face, "you're gonna fuckin' regret what you just did." 

Quackity weighed his options, but one thing rested most heavily on his mind: _Why do I have to listen to him again?_ Quackity had never really been a part of the politics of crime, more preferring to stay within the safety of the House. Everything he knew were from passing stories, or customers who attempted to get to know him.

Schlatt was supposedly known for his impulsions and his greed for power. But putting that aside, he was kind of the best option as a leader, especially in an are like this. He was a drunk and a dictator, but through him, the people got what they wanted. But Quackity always thought it was because Schlatt was weaker than he let on. 

Quackity bowed out of the situation, hearing a cry of, "yeah, you run motherfucker!" in the background, followed by what almost seemed like manic laughter. He made his way to the bar and started hatching out a plan. He planned and planned and planned, but his thoughts always drifted towards one thing. As Quackity sat behind the bar, absentmindedly making drinks, his mind relived the feeling of Schlatt's hands on him, the rugged and unkempt form holding him down. From the two minutes he had known him, Quackity could tell that Schlatt was a cocky motherfucker. He probably didn't get angry very often.

So that begged the question: What would piss Schlatt off the most? Mostly he was just curious to see how he'd react. Although there was a growing part of him a bit turned on by such a frail yet powerful man. 

It was Quackity's time on stage now. He debated snorting a quick line, but he wanted to be clean for this. Well, as clean as he already was. He strutted onto stage reaching his hand lazily towards the bar. It was a change from his usual act. His persona was usually much more energetic: He would jump around the stage, reach straight for the pole, and do everything with lewd abandon. But tonight he had an agenda. He scanned the crowd, and low and behold, Schlatt was still sitting where he was before. One hand was rested confidently behind his head, the other was holding onto his nearly empty wine bottle. Some other employee was all over him, but he didn't seem to care. His eyes were locked onto the performer. 

He wrapped himself softly around the dance pole. Keeping his eyes locked onto Schlatt's until the very last moment, he tenderly placed his hands on the bar and rolled his ass in Schlatt's direction. He followed this by spinning around to the opposite side of the bar, almost hiding behind it. With as flirtatious of a grin he could muster, he reached his arm out towards Schlatt, motioning him forward. Schlatt, although smiling, shook his head, motioning to the guy who was all over him still. Quackity rolled his eyes and shot him another flirtatious grin before transitioning into his usual routine. 

It was nearing the end of his time on stage when the hooker finally left the Crime Boss's side. Quackity, now in his usual persona, noticed this immediately and rushed to the front of the stage, catching the bar and spinning around it once before landing as close to the end of the stage as possible. He made pseudo grabby-hands towards the muscular man, making a show of miming a rope being thrown around him. Schlatt gave a hand motion of "I give up" and walked to the edge of the stage, beer in hand. Quackity lowered all the way to the ground to get to Schlatt's height, in order to whisper something very important into his ear.

Quackity could barely contain his grin. "Your mutton chops look like shit. Overcompensate by buying a nicer car or something, idiota." This was of course, followed by a very flirty smile, and a continuation of the show. 

Schlatt's expression became suddenly unreadable, until his smirk took a darker tone and he went to talk to the owner of the store. If he got him fired, he didn't care. It'd be worth it. 

~~~

When the show ended, his manager was waiting for him near the steps. 

"What'd he say Karl?"

Karl glanced past Quackity, catching view of Crime Lord in the distance. "He paid way too much for a session in a private room with you," Karl shrugged.

A private room? Alone, with him? The only thing it spelled was death, but strangely, a big part of the hooker doubted it. No way a Jeff Bazos looking man like him would do anything. Quackity gave a shrug with a little-too enthusiastic nod, and made his way to the back rooms.

Now the rooms themselves were smaller: Just a queen sized bed and barely any walking space. But it was nicer than people usually expected, at least because of how steep the price was and how little it was used. Some rooms had a little table in the corner to hold lube and other implements, but for the most part everything was kept either on the headboard or the floor. 

Quackity found the only closed door, and knocked. After a second, he heard, "come in, bitch," from the other side. He stilled himself and entered the room.

When he opened the door, what he saw was shocking to say the least. Schlatt was laying down on the bed, alcohol spilled off to the side, completely naked. He had the same smug expression, with his head resting on his hands. Quackity couldn't help but let out a stifled breath. He was shocked, in awe, and a little bit put off. Schlatt's dick was standing, partially hardened, right in the middle of the bed. He definitely wasn't overcompensating. 

"Come on, you know what to do," he chided, nodding his head to motion towards his dick. It was a pretty obvious power play, to say the least. Schlatt was completely ass naked. Quackity could probably kill him, or definitely bite off his dick. 

Quackity moved forward, and chided in response, "I knew you wouldn't kill me."

"Well I haven't really decided on that yet. We'll see how you do."

"Oh, so if I suck you off well enough I get to live? Is that how it is?"

The older man gave what looked to be a genuine smile. "If all you're gonna do is suck me off then you're gonna be wasting your fuckin' time. I might as well just kill you now."

Quackity feigned a comedic frightened expression, then relaxed it soon after. "I don't think you could amigo."

Schlatt quieted for a moment, staring with another blank and unreadable expression. "You wanna try me?"

Without a beat, Quackity responded, "I think I'm gonna have to try you if I want to get out of here."

Schlatt showed nothing but a smirk on his face, then he went back to a cocky expression. "Then get on with it, slut. Give me the full show and I’ll see how you do."

The younger man rolled his eyes, then turned around and faced his ass towards the Crime Boss.

Quackity squat down, then lowered his back and straightened his knees. His work outfit, a thin purple lingerie, left nothing to the imagination of the older man. He was clearly used, lazily cleaned, and definitely a professional. As he proceeded to twirk, Schlatt could tell he was going by a rhythm. His ass was rounder than the rest of his body assumed, so it bounced healthily to the muffled sound of music from the main stage area.

He was curious to see how the whore would react to walking in and seeing Schlatt lewdly displayed, and the slut did not disappoint. Schlatt had been keeping his eye out for someone to bring back to his home base, the White House. Someone to keep there, who'd let him use him whenever he fucking pleased. And he didn't want any regular whore either, he wanted someone who would fight back. Someone with balls. 

And this bitch sure had some balls.

"I'm not feeling much contact here, bitch." Schlatt nodded to his dick.

Quackity frowned, then turned. His hands moved to either side of the older man, resting on the bed. "But you said," his hands slid forward, slowly lowering his face towards the alcoholic, "that if I didn't give you a show, you'd kill me!" He rested above Schlatt, fully on top of him now.

"Yeah well show's over," he threatened.

Quackity feigned a fearful expression. "No, Mister Big Money Crime Lord Man-"

"Don't call me that."

Fully sarcastic now, the younger man obtained a lisp. "I'm just doing what I can to save my own life!"

"Fuck you."

"No fuck you Mister Big Money Crime Lord Man!"

They continued to share remarks, Quackity getting more and more sarcastic with each phrase. Schlatt had enough. However, when he reached for his gun, he felt a soft wet tongue quickly slide up his chest, from his belly button to right between his nipples.

Schlatt let out a chuckle, seeing that the slut's response to getting out of this situation alive was to give him more pleasure. It only proved one thing: "Hah, you," he had to take a breath, to stabilize himself from what had just occurred, "you… you're fuckin afraid of me still- fuck." He meant his words to come out as a mocking cheer, but Quackity tore an unwilling moan of of Schlatt as he placed one hand gently on his dick. Then his other hand slid up to pinch one nipple, and his mouth driften down to suck on the other. 

A soft, yet high-pitched chuckle came from the younger man, the vibrations thrumming into his nipple. He removed his mouth, and started quickly pacing his hand up and down Schlatt's dick. More loudly than expected, he chuckled, "You don't look very scary from where I'm sitting, _bitch._ " He chuckled at his Schlatt impression, before he felt a sudden shift of weight.

Quackity had more fun with this man than he'd thought. He was on the fence on whether or not he should have challenged him, but he reacted so well. The younger man knew he was good in bed, but good enough to stall the largest crime lord of the city? He was impressed with himself, and a little disappointed in the man in question. Schlatt must have been into what Quackity was throwing at him. Some humiliation kink or something. 

Or at least he thought he was. Quackity was really getting into it, and starting to really entertain himself in the process. Schlatt was trying to come out on top, but doing a terrible job at it. But one derogatory comment was too much for the crime lord, and it was almost as if something in him shifted. Quackity saw it in his eyes: They started in a dark shade of blue, filled with sensation and desire. But then, in the next instant, they shifted to his normal shade, and there was the smallest flicker of fear before immediately flaming with rage. Schlatt had reached for his gun faster than Quackity could anticipate. The older man then sat straight up, surprising Quackity with his hidden strength. The gun cocked and found itself immediately placed firmly under Quackity's chin. Now fully in control, he saw Schlatt's eyes darken once again, however this time, the anger was very much present. 

Shlatt's words came firm. "Get off me, _bitch,_ " he said, copying the impression Quackity had done moments ago.

The younger man couldn't tell if he was afraid, aroused, or humored by this old man pointing a gun at him. He knew at this moment it was probably best to do what he said though, so in a mixture of these three emotions, he replied, "yessir!" and immediately got off him. 

Schlatt stood up, keeping the gun trained on the scull of the younger man. "I'm fucking done with you. The attitude and shit, I'm done." 

Quackity had no idea what would happen next. Unsure, he replied, "oh come onnnn-"

"Where the fuck's the lube?"

 _So that's what's happening now_. He stilled, a shocked and excited expression covering his face. "Right in there, Sir." He pointed to a beat-up box in the corner. Usually it was out and ready to be used, but the last bottle had ran out and he was too lazy to bend down, open the box, and get out a new one. 

Schlatt kept one eye trained on Quackity, keeping him from moving a muscle. As quickly as he could, he pulled a new container of lube out and threw it next to the younger man on the bed. 

He smiled and excitedly laid back, ready for whatever the older man was about to give him. 

Schlatt was rough, but he was kind of expecting it. He threw the gun back to it's position on the bed, now confident he could overpower the hooker. He tore through Quackity's work clothes, then grabbed the lube. But then he stopped, and threw it to Quackity, before reaching past him and grabbing the gun once again. "I ain't doing this shit, get yourself ready for me."

Quackity was so fucking ready, but if the big man still wanted a show, who was he to say no? He let out a dark chuckle. "Yessir," he breathed. He stretched forward before leaning back onto his elbows, simultaneously spreading his legs out as far as he could go. 

Although the show he made of getting himself ready was slow, it was as lewd as possible. At every move, Quackity would let out a whining, wanting moan. Every pump of lubricant he fingered into his ass drew another long and agonizing moan. He let his mouth water as he slowly worked more and more fingers into himself. The older man, although impatient, was clearly enjoying it, which spurred him on even further.

Eventually, Schlatt couldn't take it anymore. He pushed Quackity's body to the bed, pinning his hands to either side. He didn't bother to lube himself up, but Quackity's ass was so wet that it hardly mattered when Schlatt plunged his full length into him. 

This erupted a moan from both of them, Schlatt's being deep and guttural, and Quackity's being whining and breathy. Schlatt went slowly, savoring the feeling of being inside the cunt who'd been teasing him this whole time. 

Quackity wanted to get the last word in, but when he started speaking, Schlatt's mouth quickly moved to quiet him. His tongue was rough, and there was a very distinct taste of alcohol coating every inch of his mouth. The flavor was like nothing he had ever tasted; It was musty, and sweet, and sour, and he felt the taste strangely matched the man fucking him. He savored the taste. This would probably be as close as anyone would ever get to drinking Schlatt's coveted brew.

Schlatt's pace quickened, and in a flash, Quackity was picked up and hurdled to a nearby wall. Although the impact didn't hurt, the loud thump both scared and excited him. Schlatt continued his pace, every thrust seeming to get exponentially faster. The quiet curses he had been moaning under his breath, came loudly the closer he edged to an orgasm. Quackity gasped when he felt two rough hands start jerking him off at the same rate his ass was being fucked. 

"Come with me," Schlatt demanded, the tone of voice forcing Quackity closer to an orgasm. Their moans became in sync, their voices combining, getting louder and louder. Then finally, Schlatt forced a rough kiss, his moan echoing into Quackity's very core. That rumble was enough to finish him, and he came all over Schlatt's bare chest. 

The older man quickly moved them to the bed so they could both safely collapse. 

It took a few moments for both men to catch their breath. Schlatt had never been so exhausted after an orgasm, but then again, he had never fucked someone with the balls of this whore. No boring shit, no trying too hard, just a hot round ass that could deal with a good fucking. He reached to his side to make sure his gun was still there, and then moved it closer to him just in case. 

Although he was still tired, Quackity was curious on where things would go from here. He sat up a little too quickly, his head blanking for a moment. He shook it off and looked at the older man, covered in cum and sweat. He wanted to stay and bask in the afterglow of his orgasm. Maybe even strike up an actual conversation. But at the same time, the younger man was eager for a shower, not wanting whatever cocktail of STD's this man held. "Well I'm off."

Schlatt clutched his gun. "No fucking way you are. I'm a mess."

Quackity scoffed. "Well we have showers!"

"And I have a gun!"

"Your obsession with your gun is getting old. Besides, I don't want your AIDS."

The older man looked to the side and put on a comedic pouting face. "I don't have AIDS."

"Oh _I don't have AIDS,_ " Quackity mocked. "Coming from the man who fucked _me_ without thinking twice."

He could tell Schlatt held back something, but instead simply scoffed. "Let's go take a shower then."

"S-So soon??" Quackity stuttered, assuming that a shared shower meant round two.

"You fucking slut, I don't mean together," Schlatt chided, a slight smile appearing on his face.

Quackity's voice came to a comedic whisper. "Oh ok ok, yessir yessir."


	2. The Shower Scene

Quackity's mind reeled over the events that just unfolded as he lathered a cheap bar of soap into his hair. The realization of what he had just done was becoming more and more concrete. He never really followed city politics, so he didn't think it was a big deal at the time, but if the rumors he heard about Schlatt was true, then this was huge.

Schlatt led one of the biggest, if not _the_ biggest mafia groups in all of Dream City. No one knew just how he attained the position, although some rumored that he had help from the mayor himself. Schlatt's reach followed through all of Dream City, but he mainly focused on the Manburg section, an area he named himself. He didn't seem to live anywhere, and was always seen with someone. He heard that a lot of people didn't like him, and those who didn't stayed away. Schlatt had had assassination attempts pulled on him before, but none succeeded. He drank his own concoction of alcohol, which he called "Schlatt's Beer." The only time Schlatt killed anyone without a "good" reason was if they drank out of his bottle.

But the politics of everything, how Schlatt stayed alive so long, what he was up to, Quackity had no idea. He was content to stay in his little bubble, working most of his time at the Hotel. Then, he could go home to a comfortable bed, and wake up whenever he wanted.

But now it almost felt like he knew more than others did about the Crime Lord. Schlatt was openly gay, but he didn't act it. He waved his gun around like it was a part of himself. He was quick to threaten, but not quick on the trigger. If he sensed he was in danger, or he couldn't immediately reach for his gun and protect himself, he could fight anything else he was feeling just to get himself into a better position. He liked being in control, but he was a simple man and liked anything that would get him off. He liked to fight. He liked to banter.

This thought lead Quackity to pause for a moment. Making fun of someone who thought he was better than him was a fantasy that Quackity didn't know he had. At first he had led Schlatt into a room because he heard he was a big guy, and he could tell that Schlatt was more likely to bark than bite. But now thinking back, the older man was kind of hot, in an old, angry sort of way. And Schlatt wasn't _that_ old… He just looked it from being both malnourished and overly muscular. Quackity wondered if he could persuade him to come back to the bar some time.

A smile grew on his face, a devious idea forming in his mind.

Quackity turned his shower off, making note that the shower in the stall next to him was still running. He got out of his stall and peered through the curtain of the next. It was Schlatt. He was leaning against the edge of the wall, half asleep, drinking his beer concoction through a wine bottle. Quackity stalled. The way Schlatt leaned, with one arm down and the other on the neck of the bottle, his eyelids flickering closed, water trailing down his toned muscles and soaking into his hairy chest, his cock still partially hardened from their previous adventure: It was like looking at a magazine. Under this light, Schlatt was the sexiest man Quackity had ever seen.

The younger man very quietly got to his knees, sneakily opening the curtain from the bottom, and squeezing into the tight space without taking Schlatt out of his trance. Then, in one quick motion, Quackity opened his mouth and stuck Schlatt's cock deep into his throat.

From above, heard Schlatt cock his gun (from where he didn’t know. Were firearms even waterproof?) and shout "WHAT THE FU-" before uttering a deep growling moan.

Deepthroating is a skill Quackity picked up while still living on the streets, before the House took him in. The better of a blowjob you gave, generally the higher price you could get away with. He learned the skill so he could work on getting off the corner, but he didn't know that now he'd be using that ability on the defacto ruler of this city.

He kept Schlatt in his throat for a few seconds, letting his breathing stabalize. He then attempted to breath in through his mouth slightly, triggering his body to start to gag on Schlatt's cock. He let himself continue to gag, while starting to very slowly move his head up and down the big man's length. He placed his hands on Schlatt's thighs to stabalize himself, and he could feel Schlatt buckle at the added sensation. With a smile on his lips, Quackity pulled off, noticing Schlatt's pelvis instinctually moving towards him. A thick trail of saliva connected him and Schlatt's member, before being quickly washed away by the water. A part of the trail stuck to Quackity's chin. He used this opportunity to look up to Schlatt with a daring and confident expression.

Unlike Quackity, who had been choking on a cock for the past few seconds, Schlatt had to catch his breath. "Fucking Christ you're a slut." He looked down with a pseudo-disgusted expression.

Quackity chuckled. "Hell yeah baby," then dived back into his crotch, giving each ballsack a light suck.

Then, an amazing idea entered his mind. Quackity moved both of his hands to one leg, and starting from the side of his knee, gave little kisses up to Schlatt's crotch. When he reached it, he licked his way to the very base of Schlatt's cock, before switching to the other leg and doing it again. 

Schlatt was panting like a dog. The only contact he was getting was from the water raining down on him, but that was nothing compared to what Quackity had done earlier, and he knew it.

Quackity grinned up at Schlatt again, and in an instructional tone, said, "now how's that feel?"

He received nothing but silence. The older man was pressed up against the wall, desperately trying to hold himself together.

"What," Quackity traced small circles into Schlatt's left thigh, "too manly to give in and take what you want?"

Taking that as his que, Schlatt sighed and rolled his eyes with his whole body, and pushed the younger man against the wall with his knees. But Quackity grinned, and shut his mouth tight.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." Schlatt leaned a hand against the wall and started slapping Quackity's cheek with his fully erect cock. "Open up, bitch."

With a twinkle in his eye, Quackity shook his head.

Schlatt's expression stilled to unreadable, and he pointed his gun that had been lulled at his side at Quackity.

The younger man shook his head again. He spoke in a comedic through smiling teeth, "I don't think you're gonna shoot me, Mister."

Quicker that he realized, Quackity felt himself being pulled up to his neck and pushed up to Schlatt's eye level. He noticed he was a little taller than the older man. Schlatt's expression darkened. His eyes shone with desire, anger, and he had a twinge of a crazed look. He felt the gun's edge pressed firmly against his chin. Quackity mockingly feigned a scared expression.

Schlatt's tone was low. His voice rumbled deep through Quackity, right into his dick, which had been ignored for all this time. "If I have to shoot my fucking gun when I'm like _this_ ," with his other hand, he motioned to himself with his now empty wine bottle. his face still inches away from Quackity's, and he let out what sounded to be a breathy scoff, "It ain't gonna be quick." He moved the gun from Quackity's chin to his stomach.

Keeping it there, Schlatt slowly dropped the bottle to the floor and moved that hand to tightly grip Quackity's arm. Instantly, Schlatt's eyes were taken over by a crazed hunger, and he forced a kiss from Quackity. He felt Schlatt plunge his tongue deep into his mouth, exploring every inch of him in wild abandon. Schlatt balanced his gun precariously onto a ledge meant for soap. Then, still holding tightly onto Quackity's arm, Schlatt brought his other hand down and started roughly jerking Quackity off. He noted the frenzy in his movements.

Just as Quackity began to get lost in the sensation, Schlatt stopped kissing him, let go of his dick, and pushed his shoulders down so hard Quackity couldn't help but kneel. Not that he resisted much. Quackity opened his mouth to try and get the last word, but Schlatt used that opportunity to stable himself on the wall, grab one chunk of Quackity's hair, and plunge his dick deep into Quackity's throat. He kept the feeling of choking there for a second before softening his throat and letting the older man fuck him. With every thrust, Schlatt let out an animalistic grunt.

Quackity weakly stabalized himself on Schlatt's thighs, and felt them quiver in a pending orgasm. Quackity pulled Schlatt out of his throat, figuring he would want a messier show. He sucked hard on the Crime Lord's cock, drilled his tongue into the tip of his dick, then started bobbing up and down his length as quickly as he could manage. He felt the warmth of Schlatt's seed hit the back of his mouth. Quackity left some of it on the tip of Schlatt's dick, then opened his mouth wide without swallowing. He spread his knees out as far as they could go, slid forward, and then leaned back, so Schlatt could have a full view as Quackity started jerking himself off, the taste of the older man's seed turning him on. The moans he let out were as loud, whining, and needy as he could possibly make them sound.

The man before him was the epitome of sex. Quackity was splayed out, showing every inch of his body. He could have sworn that the steam rising from the lessening warmth of the shower was coming from the younger man. He looked like a whore in heat, his tongue lolling out, dripping cum. His head was perfectly outside of the shower's stream, so Schlatt could see his seed trickling down the slut's chin. When Quackity came to a climax, his chest came forward, his knees spread wider, and he let out such a loud, whining, pornographic moan, he wouldn't be surprised if people heard it from outside the building.

It was the sexiest fucking noise Schlatt had ever heard. He was bringing this slut home no matter what.

Quackity looked up at him after his climax, this cocky little expression on his face. Like he had just proved something. Schlatt had to cover is face in his hand and look away. He didn't want a round three, his body was already exhausted, but if he kept looking, he might not be able to contain himself.

Quackity was more excited than he thought he'd be about fucking an old man twice. Although he wasn't ready for round three, he felt the urge to bother Schlatt a bit more.

" _Fuck_ Schlatt," the younger man moaned, slowly getting up from his position. As Quackity sat up, he trailed his hand up Schlatt's side, giving him goosebumps. "I can see you're blushing," he chuckled in a mocking tone.

Schlatt's eyes were still averted. "What the fuck happened to just taking a shower?"

"Oh but Mister Boss Man-"

"I fucking hate this."

"I wouldn'a gotten to taste that delicious cock of yours Mister Boss Man!"

"Get the fuck out."

"Make me."

Schlatt shoved Quackity against the wall, his gaze sinking deep into the younger man's. He pushed the gun into Quackity's stomach, sending a warmth to his brain he'd never experienced before. It was as if his body was telling him to run, as if he was in danger. But it was paired with an attraction and feeling of safety from seeing the assumptions he made about this man become true right in front of his very eyes. Schlatt was really good at being really scary, but very bad at following through with his threats. At least the ones he made towards Quackity. "Look, bitch." His voice was terrifyingly quiet, but his breath bounced off of Quackity's shoulder, making his cock twitch. "You and I both know that if I fire off this gun, I'm gonna have more trouble than it's worth. So let me fuckin' shower, and you can learn what I'm like outside of this gay ass place."

Quackity's breath was hitched in the back of his throat, rendering him unable to speak. The older man was pressed up against him, breathing down his neck. He was suddenly hyper-aware of his surroundings, but in the best way possible. He wanted to savor this moment, but Schlatt pushed off of him, giving Quackity the ability to leave. The younger man let out a deep sigh, overwhelmed by the sensations that just left him. He took a second to steady his head, the words the man just said whirling around in his mind. What did he mean by outside? Would he actually fire his gun if given the chance? What did he mean by 'gay ass place'? That was a little derogatory towards a bar he had thoroughly enjoyed himself in before now. Either way, Quackity's mind focused on one thing the most: "Are you asking me on a date?"

Schlatt's expression stilled, then a smirk went to his face. "Yeah. So go get changed into somethin' cute, and I'll meet you right outside."

Right now? The immediateness of his response worried Quackity, but at this point, he had never been so attracted to someone in his life. At the very least, this man had taught him about a kink he didn't know he had. Even if a date with Schlatt didn't turn out, Quackity would definitely be playing around with this gun thing in the future. He didn't know what the older man had planned, but he honestly didn't mind the secrecy. Something about not knowing what was to come excited him, in almost a nostalgic sort of way. Except this time, he could relatively guess he'd be safe, even if he didn't know for sure. Quackity feigned a childish expression to hide what felt like an unhealthy level of excitement, and quickly nodded his head. "Oh, yes sir, yes sir!" He jumped out of the shower, and was immediately hit with the cold air.

Quackity found the stash of towels and dried himself as fast as possible on his way to the back room. Finding the remnants of his work outfit, he put on the thin material, and made his way to check outside. He didn't want to wait there, partially because of the cold wind, and partially because he was nervous about whatever Schlatt had planned. He walked through the small corridor to get outside, and then promptly took a look around. No one looked strange, or out of the ordinary, except for one fairly young guy outside. He didn't look old enough to be allowed into the bar. He was leaning against the wall near the entrance, playing what looked to be Snake on his phone. As soon as Quackity laid eyes on the boy, however, he looked up at his phone and looked right at Quackity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Guns are very much water-resistant, especially if they're military grade.


	3. Quackity is Introduced to the Others

Tubbo finally found the bus stop, after what felt like years of walking. His legs were sore, his eyes were heavy, and he really just wanted to get somewhere safe. He didn't quite like being out in the middle of nowhere. The city was dangerous, especially at this time of night. He had agreed to taking the later shift at the Caravan today so that Wilbur could talk with some other customer, but Tubbo thought that, maybe after his shift, someone would walk him home or something? Although, he shouldn't have expected it, honestly. He couldn't count the number of times Wilbur had lectured him about how he's growing older every day. How he needed to protect himself. Although his boss always framed it as an inspirational speech, it always felt like a lecture.

He shook his head out of the thought to read the bus's schedule. His phone said it was 2 am, which meant… The bus wasn't going to come around until 6. Tubbo sighed and collapsed into the bench, taking some solace in the cover the bus stop provided. Maybe he'd just sleep here tonight. Couldn't be any worse than some of the other places he'd slept before. He reminisced to his time in the orphanage, how one could feel the bedsprings through the mattress. He absolutely hated it there, but wouldn't trade it for anything since that's where he met his best friend.

Tubbo was so deep in thought, he didn't notice a man walking towards the bus stop. That wasn't until he heard a gun cock in his direction. "Move."

The man walking towards him was tall and intimating and had a gun pointed right at Tubbo. Tubbo immediately stood up and moved to the side, allowing the stranger to sit where he wanted. "Sorry."

The man didn't reply. He just sat down on the seat with a pissed off expression, looking off into the sky, obviously waiting for the rain to stop. He turned to face the boy. "Who the fuck are you lookin' at?" The stranger asked.

Tubbo didn't realize he was staring. "Oh, sorry again," he said as he looked to the side.

A chuckle left the stranger's mouth, "yeah, you better be."

This sucked. He didn't know where any of his friends were, he didn't know where he himself was, and he didn't know how to get anywhere safe. And a guy with a gun was stopping him from the one nice place he could maybe nap for a few hours before the bus arrived. He really didn't like this. He just wanted to go someplace he liked.

He slid down the side of the bus stop cover to curl himself into a ball for warmth. Maybe he could sleep like this?

Even if by some miracle he got to Tommy's place, or maybe found Wilbur wandering around somewhere, he couldn't even guarantee he was out of the clear. What if Wilbur found him, but when they got back to the Caravan, it was stolen? Tubbo couldn't drive, so he couldn't re-park it in a safer location, so if it got stolen, it would be his fault. He should have at least tried.

Or what if he found Tommy's hut, but he wasn't even allowed inside because Tommy had a woman over? Or maybe Tommy would let him inside, but then Wilbur was there and he asked why Tubbo wasn't at the caravan. Maybe Tubbo was supposed to stay there all night, and that's why no one came to get him? He brought up a hand to wipe the tears that had forced their way out.

"Why the fuck are you crying? Stop that."

Tubbo looked up at the man and then quickly looked back down. He wiped his tears faster, sniffled a bit, and then resolved to hug himself tighter. "Sorry."

Mockingly, the stranger replied, "Oh _'sorry, sorry, so sorry'_ fuck, do you ever say anything else?"

Tubbo held back the reflex to apologize once more, instead resolving to just look to the side.

Silence echoed between them. Tubbo looked up again, and the stranger was back to observing the sparing speckles of the blanketed night. "Look," the man's voice softened, "stand up, dust yourself off, and buy a suit. You'll feel better in no time."

It was only then Tubbo noticed what the stranger was wearing. He could tell it was a suit of some kind, but with the damage and rain it took on, it was a ratted mess. There were slashes throughout it, and what looked to be specks of dried blood. He wondered if that was why he looked so angry. But yeah, maybe he could buy a suit. Well he didn't have any money… He would usually give it all to Tommy, since he needed it more than Tubbo did. But maybe he could save up for a suit. Were suits expensive? He didn't know. Maybe the stranger could help. "I don't quite have any money for one right now."

"The fuck- you-" the stranger sighed, "fine, lets go get you a suit." He stood up.

"Right now?"

"Yeah!"

"But everything's closed."

"I know a guy."

"But it's cold, and raining."

"Too fucking bad."

Tubbo's grip of his knees loosened. He couldn't really argue with that. He didn't want to go out in the rain, but the man wasn't really leaving him much choice. Maybe it would be warmer inside an actual building? He stood up and let out a big yawn. It was at least a kind gesture, and he wouldn't mind having a bit of a bigger wardrobe. "… Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

The man guided Tubbo by the shoulder, but not in a way that felt threatening. "You're gonna feel better, kid."

"Thanks, Big Man."

\---------------------

The water was fucking cold. Yeah, the bitch was sexy and all that, but now Schlatt had to finish his shower in cold fucking water. Yeah, he was looking for someone to bring back to the White House, not only as a sexy side piece, but hopefully, as a member of the team. Yeah, he wanted a slut crazy enough to fight back, but he didn't expect to find anybody who was actually into his shit. It was like the bitch saw straight through him, and he didn't know if he liked it or not. And he was so fucking sexy too, Schlatt feared it was too much raw energy for one man to possess.

Before Schlatt finished his shower, he reached to a table right outside, where he had hidden his phone under his clothes. He brought it into the shower with him and flipped it open, typing in a number he knew by heart.

After a short ring, he heard the other line click open. "Hi!"

"Hey Tubbo, I found a bitch I like. He should be on his way outside."

"Oh finally! I thought the day'd never come!"

"Yeah yeah. Just keep him company outside. I'll be there in a second."

"God that took ages. What does he look like?"

Schlatt took a second to think about it. "Sexy."

"…Yeah yeah okay."

"Yeah! Yeah. Just look for someone who's probably walking around fuckin' bare-assed."

"Right right, yeah, okay. I'm just looking for a fully naked man, then?"

"Yeah, probably."

"Okay! I'm going to hang up now."

"Call me if you don't see a fully naked man walk outside of there."

"Yep, alright, will do," was his nervous reply before hanging up the phone.

\---

It took a minute after hanging up his phone for Schlatt's "new friend" to come outside. He wasn't too sure how to feel. On one hand, it had been ages of going to various gay establishments to find a new member of the team. He still had zero idea of why the new man _had_ to be gay. Schlatt had said he wanted someone to flirt with, but wasn't that a bit mean, finding a gay man to flirt with? Or maybe this was his Boss's roundabout way of coming out. Ever since Tubbo knew Schlatt, he had a running joke that he was gay, and it went so deep, Tubbo thought, _maybe_ Schlatt was questioning. He opened his phone to play a game to take his mind off of the whole ordeal, glancing up at the door every once and a while and hoping a fully naked man wouldn't walk through. On one hand, he assumed Schlatt was joking, but one could never know.

\---

When the boy looked straight up at Quackity, he immediately averted his eyes back to his phone, a deep blush rising onto his face. He was probably either older than he seemed, or he wanted a place to explore his newly discovered sexuality. Either way, Quackity's interest was peaked. Completely aware of his clothes leaving very little to the imagination, he bit the bullet and stepped fully outside into the cold air. He leaned on the wall and put on a voice he would often use for future customers. "Hey sugar-"

"I'm not gay!" The boy blurted out, his face now completely red. "I love women, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you think-"

The kid was embarrassed out of his mind, Quackity could tell. "That's okay man, chill."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that in a rude way either, I just meant that-"

"You're fiiiine, dude!"

The boy paused for a second. "Um, are you Schlatt's friend?"

Quackity stilled for a moment. Did word get around that fast? _Was_ he with Schlatt? Seeing very little danger in this very flustered child, Quackity responded, "oh yeah no we're pretty much best friends at this point."

The boy relaxed slightly in response, now flipping his phone shut and tucking it away. "Okay. Well my name's Tubbo, what's yours?"

"Quackity. What are you doing out here?"

"Um…" He looked nervous again, but more like he was wondering if he should hide something. "I'm supposed to distract you from leaving… How was your day?"

Quackity couldn't help but let out a chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. A kid working under Schlatt? He seemed so innocent compared to the man who fucked him an hour ago. "Oh my day was just, absolutely fantastic."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I have a date with your boss later. Well, is he your boss?"

"Right yeah no he is. I think so."

"Mhmm. Now how's that work exactly?"

"Umm…" Tubbo went to lock eyes with Quackity, but instead looked straight past him. "Oh hello Mister President!"

"Oh shit, Quackity, you're actually wearing something! I'm impressed!" Quackity felt an arm wrap around his shoulder and begin guiding him away from the bar.

Tubbo spoke up, "yeah, although to be honest I'm not sure those count as clothes."

Schlatt replied, "I know, he's sexy enough as it is, my cock won't take another round."

Tubbo blushed again. "Schlatt!"

"Yeah, lets get him in a nice and tight suit that shows off his fat ass."

Quackity felt completely objectified by Schlatt from one side, and made to feel like a person by Tubbo on the other. He wasn't too sure how to feel. Kind of accepted, he guessed? They were both _so friendly_ , in such completely different ways. "Ladies, ladies please, there's enough of me to go around."

Schlatt only hung on him more. "Hey Tubbo, how far's the car parked?"

Although Schlatt was the one pushing Quackity along, it looked like Tubbo was the one leading the way. "Umm, like a decent distance away. Like twenty minutes?"

"Jesus christ, why the fuck did I come here?" Schlatt shot Tubbo a very obvious glance, as if reminding him of something.

"Oh, right yeah! Quackity, you're very lucky that Schlatt picked you."

Quackity furrowed his brows. "Picked me?"

Schlatt leaned on him even further. He felt like the older man was slowing him down more than guiding him. "Yeah, this was the _very last place_ I looked for a sexy side piece."

Tubbo's response was laced with sarcasm. "Yeah, the _very_ last place outside of the five other locations we had planned this week."

"Fucking christ Tubbo, you're not helping me out here," Schlatt replied playfully.

"Well I'm just _saying_!"

Quackity couldn't help but chuckle. What the hell had he gotten himself into, and why was he already having so much fun?

\---

_"Are we there yet?"_ Whined Quackity in his pseudo-toddler voice.

Tubbo's voice was chipper. "Actually we are!"

"Oh actually?" He leaned on Schlatt a little less.

"Yea, actually!"

The final alleyway they had walked across led to a fairly busy street. Quackity looked around, and he realized just how many people were looking back in his direction. He wondered if it was because he was almost naked, or because he was with Schlatt. Maybe both. The group was given a wide berth, and a few people turned to the side and immediately began gossiping with others. He never really felt uncomfortable being naked, but he wasn't too sure about being talked about by so many people. He tried to keep more of a quiet life, so this part was new. He looked to the other two. Schlatt snaked a possessive arm around Quackity, and Tubbo attempted conversation.

"Do you think he'll be here this time Schlatt?" Inquired the boy.

"Nah. He's probably off sucking the mayor's dick or some shit."

The suddenness of the statement forced Quackity to laugh. "What the fuck- who-"

"I think that one's us!" Tubbo pointed to some car parked across the street. He couldn't really tell what car he was pointing to, since each one looked just as inconspicuous as the last. The road itself wasn't super busy though, so it was easy to cross. As soon as they got to the other side, Tubbo crouched down and stuck his hand around the bottom of the car, and pulled out an oil-covered key, then used it to open the door to the drivers seat. He stood back and looked at Schlatt.

The older man shook his head. "No I bet Quackity can drive. Can you drive, _Shnookums_?"

"What if I don't want to drive, _Baby Girl_?"

Schlatt pulled out his gun, and Quackity noticed Tubbo immediately plugged his ears. "Then I'll kill you, _Pumpkin Cakes_."

"I still don't think you would, _Sweetie Belle_."

Schlatt looked around, and Quackity noted that Tubbo's ears were still covered. That wasn't a good sign. If the boy plugged his ears at the sight of the older man pulling his gun out, it meant he'd shot people before.

But he hadn't shot Quackity yet, and at that point, he kind of wondered why. Maybe he was just too sexy.

The crime lord stuck the gun into Quackity's neck, pulled him close, and spoke in a low tone into his ear. The mutton chops tickled Quackity's neck, and for a moment, he completely forgot where he was. "Look, bitch. You're gonna drive the fuckin' car, or I'm gonna shoot you in front of poor Tubbo. You wouldn't want to scar the boy, would you?"

That was a low blow. He looked to the boy, who still had a nervous expression on his face. Quackity reached the his hand up to the firearm and pushed it off of him. "Fuck man, I'll drive. That's fuckin' sick, bringing a kid into this," he said quietly, making full well that Schlatt knew Quackity didn't like what the older man just said.

Schlatt's expression turned indignant for just a second, but it faded to unreadable. "Just get in the fucking car."

The younger man did so, catching a glimpse of Tubbo's incredibly bewildered expression.

\---

They had settled into a driving position similar to taking a hostage. Schlatt was leaned forward in the back seat with a gun pressed to Quackity's head. Tubbo was sat in the other back seat, still completely silent. Every once and a while, Quackity would glance at the boy through the rearview mirror, and see that his eyes were trained purely on Schlatt's expressions. Quackity wondered if something Schlatt was doing was out of character for him. But to be fair, Tubbo wasn't aware of what had gone on in inside the bar.

In order to fill the silence, the younger man cleared his throat. "So who's the guy sucking the mayor's dick, Schlatt?" He attempted to ask, in as nonchalant of a voice as possible.

Equally calm, Schlatt responded, "George. He's like the mayor's pet or some shit, but he drives us around sometimes."

Quackity let out a chuckle. "I-I dunno man, that seems pretty, pretty kinky to me."

"Oh no, yeah, definitely." He could hear the nod in Schlatt's voice. "Yeah no, it's uhh, it's really fuckin' weird, actually. That Dream guy's kind of mentally insane."

"Oh wait, you've met him? I thought he didn't get involved in shit."

Schlatt's tone got quieter, more casual. "Yeah, no he gets involved in shit. I can't say too much, but he definitely isn't good for this city." It was clear the older man wanted to say more, but chose not to. This made Quackity even more curious.

"What do you-"

"Drive towards that building, the big white one." Schlatt moved forward in his seat to point with his opposite hand. Quackity made a mental note to get answers out of this man later.

The building Schlatt guided Quackity towards looked just like all the other scummy buildings they drove past. It was small, made entirely of concrete, and had vines growing up the sides. But unlike all the others, this building had a thick, lazily painted layer of white across the top of it.

"Park here," Schlatt ordered, removing the gun from Quackity's skull.

"Oh, we're here already?" The boy said from the back seat.

"Holy shit Tubbo, have you been staring at me the entire time?"

"… Well I mean to be fair, you've being very weird."

A miniscule grin couldn't help but form on Quackity's face. He was right.

"Jesus Christ, Tubbo, just go unlock the fucking door."

Tubbo immediately got out of the car, but when Quackity saw his expression, he seemed more excited than anything. He gestured to the building, producing a key from his left pocket. "Quackity! Welcome to the White House!"

So _this_ is where Schlatt stayed. It honestly kind of fit the man, since it was so inconspicuous yet stood out so well.

"Mister President Schlatt and I will show you around! It's actually quite a small place so there won't be much for you to see…" The boy opened the door and continued to ramble, pointing to various things in the room.

The main space itself was incredibly lackluster. There was one, massive, very old couch to the left, a little kitchen area that peeked through the wall on the right, and what looked like a dart board right across from the entrance. The floor was an ugly brown carpet. Two wooden doors led to other areas of the house.

Schlatt walked through one of the doors, and then quickly came back with two massive noise-canceling earmuffs, similar to those one would wear in a shooting range. He gave one to Tubbo, who gave a sorry look to Quackity before dawning it. A look that told Quackity that he was about to die.

The younger man didn't believe it for a second, but the fact that the kid did made him somewhat nervous. From behind him, Quackity felt Schlatt's strong hands grip the sides of his shoulders. His quiet voice tickled the younger man's ears. "I'm gonna prove to you that I can shoot my fucking gun, but I don't want your ears to hurt. Now put these on," he held the earmuffs out in front of him. "You just sit on that couch and look sexy."

Although he didn't believe Schlatt would shoot him, he figured it was better safe than sorry. He put on the earmuffs and stepped behind the older man, snaking his hands up Schlatt's sides and beginning to massage his shoulders. Quackity leaned forward, and in his sexiest whisper, he said, "shoot wherever you want, you sexy fucking beast."

Schlatt glanced behind him, and shrugged Quackity's hands off. "I'm not gonna fuckin' shoot you," he said with an almost upset tone in his voice.

The younger man didn't really want to bring up the whole situation, but decided it was for the better. "And I don't think you will, really," he put up his hands in surrender. "But Tubbo sure seems fucking nervous."

The older man finally laid eyes on the boy. Tubbo's eyes were filled to the brim with apology, confusion, and waiting, wondering when, and if, Quackity was going to die.

Schlatt dropped his arms in an 'oh come on' motion. "Jesus Christ, Tubbo!"

The boy waved his arms in defense. "Well I don't know! You're being really weird, Schlatt!"

"Look, we've talked about this for weeks. Fundy wanted someone he could get along with, you needed someone with you for when _I'm_ not around, and we all kinda wanted somebody new, so I got me a sexy fuckin' sidepiece!"

"Yeah but you've never taken your gun out for _this_ long without shooting your gun eventually, even if you're shooting into the sky or something for intimidation! It's strange!"

Schlatt brought his hand up to his face to massage his temples. Letting out a massive sigh, he pulled his gun out and shot three bullets into the dart board across from him.

Both Quackity and Tubbo jumped out of their skin, and checked to make sure the earmuffs were on right.

The voice that came from Schlatt was louder than Quackity expected. "HAPPY, TUBBO?"

The door on the left burst open, and from it stumbled a man dawning an orange jacket, and an orange fox-eared bluetooth headset. "What the fuck is going on!" His eyes turned immediately to the dart board, then threw it off the wall to look behind it, revealing a decently sized hole. "My wires, man! Schlatt, you could've-" as soon as he turned around to look at the older man, he also saw Quackity. He immediately averted his gaze and covered his eyes. "Holy shit you are fully naked."

Quackity looked down at himself, realizing once again that all he had on were his work clothes.

"Schlatt," the fox man whined, "who is this?"

In a much jollier voice than before, he replied, "this, Fundy, is your new best friend."

"Awh but he's _naked_."

"So what, you discriminating against naked people now?"

Fundy sucked his teeth.

Tubbo spoke up. "Yeah no actually I would prefer it if he wore some clothes as well."

Quackity rolled his eyes, ignoring for now how quickly Schlatt's tone changed. "Guys, I'm not _fully_ naked."

Fundy peeked through his hands, and then immediately closed his eyes and dissolving into a whiny cry. _"That doesn't count."_

"Here c'mon Tubbo, let's go get Quackity some clothes and let the kids talk." Schlatt guided Tubbo out of the room, leaving Quackity and Fundy, awkwardly standing but seven feet apart. After a few seconds passed, the fox man turned away from Quackity to look through the hole in the wall.

"What are you looking for?" Quackity inquired.

"Nothing, I'm checking my wires. I had them installed three days ago so I could work with a better connection."

He wasn't too sure how to respond. On one hand, he felt somewhat awkward not replying, but what was he supposed to say?

Fundy let out a breath of relief. "They were a lot lower than the target, thank god."

"That's… Great-"

"So question, is Schlatt actually gay?"

Quackity burst out laughing, the question having come from absolutely nowhere. "W-what??"

"Cuz like, he says he isn't, but he actually acts a lot like he is."

It took a decent amount of effort to keep to a chuckle. He wanted to confirm the rumor he'd just learned about, but he wasn't sure if denying it could be more fun. Before he was able to speak, however, a door opened and Schlatt walked through with a nicely folded suit.

Tubbo rushed through the door right after. "I still don't think that will fit, Schlatt," he said, attempting to look at Quackity to get a sense of his dimensions without becoming embarrassed in the process.

"Sure the ass will be a little tight, but I'm sure it'll be fine. Fundy, do you mind if the slut wears your suit for a bit?" Though the tone in Schlatt's voice was questioning, it was clear Quackity was getting suited up one way or another.

"I-I don't know about that word, but please for the love of god yes, just get him some clothes."

Schlatt nodded, then motioned for Quackity to follow him. "K'mon, _Pumpkin Pie_ , I'm gonna show you my office. Come gimmie a show."

The younger man let out a chuckle. "Oh, yes sir, yes sir," he answered, not excited to put on a show, but eager to find out what was going on behind people questioning Schlatt's sexuality.

The office itself was reminiscent of the white house oval office, with flags lining the walls. Two couches sat on either side of the desk at the end of the room. Behind the desk was a window which held two heavy curtains. There were very few decorations, however, and the desk itself had nothing on it. He could see a box full of wine bottles, presumably containing Schlatt's special alcohol. Overall, the entire room was clean, albeit a little moldy.

As soon as the door shut, Quackity started shouting. "YOU'RE NOT GAY???" He made sure anyone who was on the other side of the door could hear.

Obviously he was gay, or at least very bisexual, and they both knew it. So it delighted the younger man when Schlatt replied with his equally loud response. "OF COURSE I'M NOT FUCKING GAY."

With a massive grin on his face, Quackity let out a fake sob. "SO… SO YOU WERE LEADING ME ON THIS WHOLE TIME?"

Schlatt produced a bout of manic laughter, which Quackity contrasted with equally loud fits of counterfeit tears.

He fake sniffled. "Well, Schlatt, I THINK YOU ARE GAY!"

"FUCK NO."

"AND I'LL PROVE IT!"

Schlatt stilled, a mockingly fearful expression appearing on his face. "Oh no..."

Quackity dawned a devious smile. He leaned forward and flirtatiously wrapped his arms around the older man's neck, speaking softly in his ear, "I still have to get changed, _sir_."

The younger man noticed the hair of Schlatt's arms stand on end, but the older man refused to lean into the touch. Instead, he tilted his head to the entrance and commanded, "lock the fucking door."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After writing the smut and the after scene for this chapter it got way too long, so expect another, sexier chapter shortly.


	4. Quackity Wears a Suit

This bitch was going to be the end of him. Just the way he fucking _walked_ was provocative. He'd sway his hips without even thinking, and talk to Schlatt in a voice that seemed to mirror exactly what he wanted to hear. He was a fucking mind reader, maybe a succubus of some sort. He was maybe a little bit _too_ perfect, abd Schlatt considered if maybe he was a spy. It'd make sense. Schlatt was a secretive man with a lot he wanted to keep private. He had some pretty big enemies, all with enough power to send someone after him. Quackity posed a threat.

But to be honest? His dick was getting the better of him, and he really didn't fucking care.

Especially not right now, with Quackity's arms wrapped around him, the man muttering sultry words that crawled down his spine.

When the younger man went to lock the door, Schlatt sat down on one of the couches. Even with those few whispered words, his mind was already racing with fantasies. He wanted the slut under him, over him, somewhere in between, he didn't fucking care. Just the mental image of the younger man fully nude, ready for Schlatt to take him on this fucking couch drove him wild.

It wasn't until he saw Quackity strutting towards him, hips swaying oh so elegantly, that he realized how fucking out of control he was. After all, it was a very big possibility that the bitch was trained to make him feel this way. Or even if he wasn't trained, someone could have picked up somebody on the streets with enough skill, gave him a ten minute rundown, and put him in the next bar on his list. That would mean someone would have access to a list of bars he planned to attend, and would know his schedule. Tubbo and Fundy knew, but they wouldn't betray him like that. Even if they did betray him, which was highly unlikely, why would they use that knowledge to get someone else on Schlatt's team? He must have written a list of bars down somewhere, and maybe it blew out of the window, someone found it, and gave it to one of his enemies for a price.

He clutched his gun at his side, just in case. Quackity moved past him, however, and straight towards a box of his freshly remade concoction. "The fuck do you think you're doin'?"

There was a playful confidence to his voice that set Schlatt to a state of unrest. "Well ya know, _I_ hear," he picked up a bottle, "that I'm not really supposed to drink this."

He fucking wouldn't. "Yeah, you'd get fuckin' shot." He didn't know what to do. The whole if-you-drink-his-alcohol-you-die thing was definitely something he couldn’t give up for Quackity. It was a thing of honor.

But he definitely didn't want to kill him. It took weeks to find someone just so fucking perfect.

The younger man brought the bottle closer to the both of them, unscrewing the cap. "Don't you fucking dare," he warned.

Quackity had this playful little smile on his face, like he knew exactly how to get whatever the fuck he wanted, whatever it was. He leaned towards the older man, balancing one hand on his shoulder to crawl up and straddle him.

"What the fuck are you doing," Schlatt attempted to ask with a demanding tone, however, the feeling of the younger man on top of him made his words breathy and hot.

Quackity brought the bottle up to the older man's lips, leading forward to mutter, "you need your medicine, _sir_."

The moniker captivated Schlatt. It made him feel like the better man, the one in control, the one who could start and stop the situation at his command. He fucking loved it. It turned him on so goddamn much. He drank the alcohol supplied to him, relishing the sensation of the room temperature liquid sliding down his throat.

If Quackity's plan was to get him intoxicated to the point he'd spill his secrets, it wasn't going to work. He made that formula specifically so it would get him drunk, tired, but not out of his own head.

They stared at each other for a moment, as if Quackity was waiting for the right moment to attack. As if to say 'get on with it already,' Schlatt snaked his hands around the younger man's waist to grip his ass and pull him closer. Quackity dove towards the older man, and when their lips collided, it was like a temperature in the room increased ten fold. Schlatt's hands wandered up and down Quackity's thin frame, attempting to claim as much contact as possible. As the younger man explored Schlatt's mouth, their tongues fighting for dominance, Schlatt hooked his thumbs around Quackity's underwear to try and gain more friction.

As soon as the younger man kissed him, however, he stopped and pulled away. A look of victory dawned Quackity's expression as he moved his thumb across the bottom of his lip, sucking his teeth. He grinned. "So that's what Schlatt's 'special alcohol' tastes like."

So _that_ was his plan. Schlatt frowned. Did it count as drinking his alcohol if Quackity only tasted the mixture? He doubted it. Still, he didn't mind pretending otherwise. He clutched the gun in his hand, and in one swift move, twisted the two of them around so Quackity's back was to the couch and Schlatt was hovering over him. He pressed the gun into the younger man's stomach. "You know what I have to do now, bitch."

Quackity had a massive, devious smile on his face, and Schlatt wanted nothing to do with it. He pointed the gun above him towards the ceiling, and shot it. The sound that echoed throughout the room was deafening. Quackity's eyes suddenly lit with uncertainty, and it was Schlatt's turn to grin. He lowered his face towards the younger man's ear, and muttered, "that could be you if you don't put on a fucking suit."

Quackity wasn't sure if he liked it when Schlatt actually _shot_ his gun.

Like, he understood that he wasn't actually in danger. The way the older man handled him assured him of that. But the echo of the shot pierced through his ears, and for a second, there was a doubt in his mind. It took him a bit to realize he hadn't been hurt, even though he had seen the gun was pointed upwards.

He heard a stumbling from outside, then a semi-panicked knock on the door. Tubbo's voice rang through. "Schlatt? Quackity? Are you all alright?"

The younger man opened his mouth to speak, but Schlatt put his hand over Quackity's mouth and forced him to be quiet. In a voiced laced with fury, he replied, "I'm _fine_ , Tubbo."

"… What about Quackity?"

Schlatt took a heated breath in, then removed his hand to steal a deep kiss from the younger man. After a pause long enough to scare poor Tubbo, he replied, "yeah no, I'll take care of him."

Schlatt took the alcohol from Quackity's hand and gulped it down, then threw the near empty bottle. The sound of it shattering against the wall was another noise the younger man didn't really like. At this point, he wasn’t sure what to think. Schlatt's interest in power in bed didn't stop at _pretending_ he was going to shoot his gun. It was almost as if he wanted Quackity to be afraid of him, and now that they were outside of the bar, he could get that result.

Well, if Quackity was supposed to be scared, he might as well make a show of it. He dawned a mock-fearful expression. "Please, sir, fine, I'll put on the suit, I'll put on the suit!"

Schlatt's eyes shone with a crazed yet aroused energy as he trailed his chapped bottom lip down the younger man's chest. He moved back up, then breathed heavily into the younger man's ear. "I changed my mind," he mumbled, before diving into Quackity's neck. The younger man was pressed into the couch cushion, one hand placed on his chest, the other up beside his head. He felt Schlatt's mutton chops scratch up against him as the older man bit deeply into his neck, the slight pain and pleasure trailing down to his member. Quackity held the older man against him, running his hands up and down his back, attempting to feel as much skin as possible.

Schlatt hovered over Quackity, leaving a hickey on the younger man's skin. His eyes were dark with lust, drinking in Quackity's every detail. From seemingly out of nowhere, Schlatt produced his gun, and pressed it into the younger man's chest. "Get me off if you want to fucking live." The words were filled to the brim with lust, and Quackity figured it would be rude to leave him in this state.

He chuckled quietly. "Yes sir, yes sir!"

Schlatt's gaze darkened even further at the nickname, and Quackity looked forward to using that to his advantage. The older man got off of him, then placed him back onto his lap. He could feel Schlatt's erection through his pants, and he reasoned that was a good place to start.

Quackity slid down to Schlatt's knees, placing kisses on his chest along the way. He brought his hands up to unbutton the older man's suit pants, and then when his dark brown boxers were revealed, he lowered his hands and pulled those down with his teeth.

He could hear Schlatt let out a shaky breath from above. "Fuckin' hell," he breathed, his voice laced with sex.

Using the words as a motivation to continue, Quackity took the member in his hands. He began stroking it softly, feeling every pulse, observing how the older man's breath hitched when he moved his hand across certain areas. He lowered his head to Schlatt's cock, then attempted to fit as much of it as he could into his mouth without beginning to choke. When there, he held the member in his mouth and looked back up to the older man. He observed Schlatt's hands clench beside him, his lips sewn shut.

That was when Quackity realized: Schlatt was trying to stay quiet.

Since they began, not one groan had come out of the older man. He spoke softly, and breathed hard. The room must not be sound proof, which, now that he thought about it, made sense in the dingy setting.

A scheming grin dawned Quackity's expression as he began to steadily suck on Schlatt's cock, bobbing his head up and down at a torturously slow pace. Once the member hardened to the point it could stand up fairly easily on its own, the younger man pulled off, leaving a line of pre-cum between them.

Quackity gazed lustfully at Schlatt and crawled up him, making sure not to break eye contact. With a mischievous glare, he lined up his entrance with the tip of the older man's cock. He looked down, changed his expression to mock-innocence, and looked up at Schlatt with puppy dog eyes. "Mister president sir, are you sure you want to fuck me, mister president sir? It would feel awfully good, and I may get louder than I'm supposed to."

The older man rolled his eyes, and in a flash, Quackity's back was against the couch, and Schlatt was now the one on top. He felt the tip of the gun pressed to his chin. "Make one goddammed whimper and I'll shoot this thing through your fucking skull."

There was a deep encompassing lust in Schlatt's eyes as he moved his gun off the couch and went in for a heavy, all-encompassing kiss. Quackity let out a soft, quiet moan as he felt the older man snake his hands down the younger man's body, then line his dick up with Quackity's entrance.

Then, slowly, magically, Schlatt pushed into the younger man. Both let out an erotic groan, but both were muffled by the deep kiss that entangled them.

The older man moved slowly, making sure they were both comfortable, despite the lack of lubrication. Every time Schlatt moved forward, he put his fully weight on Quackity, causing the younger man to breath out in response. Their breaths were in sync. They shared the air between them as Schlatt moved. Quackity reached his hands up and around to try and get as much physical contact as he could in this situation.

The younger man tried to think of a fun way to turn this around: to make Schlatt annoyed, angry. But as the older man quickened his pace and wrapped his hand around Quackity's cock, he couldn't think about anything but his desire for release.

Schlatt removed himself from the kiss, a line of saliva connecting them. "Come with me," he growled. The order made Quackity shiver with excitement. Both were being as quiet as possible, only sharing heavy breaths between them. But as Schlatt pushed deep into Quackity's ass, as he moved his hand up and down Quackity's member so roughly that the younger man felt like he was on fire, he couldn't help it. As they both came to a climax, Quackity let out a lecherous growl. It wasn't loud by any particular means, but it wasn't as quiet as before, either.

Still Schlatt collapsed backwards, seemingly too worn out to care about the small amount of noise. He let out a breath. "I gotta be honest, I've never fucked someone this much-"

Before he could finish his sentence, there was a tentative knock at the door. Fundy spoke nervously on the other side. "Um, Schlatt? You've been in there a bit, is everything okay?"

Quackity chuckled, wondering if the fox man had heard the noise.

Schlatt took a calm breath out to try and steady himself, then clearly stated, "yeah, Fundy, I'm okay. If you could bring a towel in that would be great, I need something to wrap the body in. Thanks."

Quackity didn't know whether to laugh or feel sympathy for the fox guy. On one hand, he'd learn soon enough that Schlatt was lying, so there wasn't much harm. But on the other hand, it was kinda fucked to lead someone to believe somebody else was dead.

"O-okay…" Fundy replied, and then assumedly walked off.

Quackity was the first to sit up, but he quickly realized his chest was covered in cum, so he laid back down. So _that's_ why Schlatt asked for a towel.

As the silence dragged on between them, Quackity figured now was a better time than any to clear some things up. He waited a bit more just in case. "…Schlatt?"

The older man adjusted himself, propping his head up on his hands. "Yea, Quackity?"

"What the fuck am I doing here?"

Schlatt groaned in the effort to sit up. "Well," his eyes moved lazily around the room, "your job here is to sit around all day with that fat fuckin' ass of yours."

Quackity covered his eyes with his arm. "Ah job? I already have one of those."

"Then quit."

"I'm not gonna have a place to live, dude."

"Then, fuckin', live with me."

_Knock knock knock._

Before Quackity could process what the older man had offered, he heard a knock at the door.

"Um, Schlatt, I got a towel for you," Fundy said.

"Great, awesome. Put it on the handle and leave so I can get it."

"…Do you need help, or anything-"

"No no, I'm good. I'd just like it if you uh, got the fuck out."

There was a long pause. "Right. Um, Quackity?"

"Yeah?" _FUCK._ What the fuck? How the fuck?? Quackity was dazed more than usual, laying down after an orgasm, but he didn't know he was that fucking dumb to reply to his own name.

No more sound came past that door. He looked to Schlatt, who chuckled and shook his head. "You are such a fucking idiot," he said as he made his way to the door.

Quackity scoffed. "No! No! I heard my name, Schlatt, I heard my name so I responded to my name, like a normal fucking person would, okay? None of this 'I'm a dumbass' bullshit, I responded to my name like a normal fucking person."

Schlatt swiftly opened the door then shut it again, producing a towel. "You're still a fucking dumb idiot. Y'know, you said it yourself, 'you're a dumbass'."

"Well fuck you!"

"Nah, I've already fucked somebody today. It's getting' kinda late."

Quackity snatched the towel out of Schlatt's hand, then remembered back to what the man had said previously. "You want me to live with you?"

"Yeah. To be honest, that was kinda the plan from the start. Find somebody with a fat ass, and bring him in to live with me."

"I mean, I mean thatdoesn'tsoundtoobad, but… Am I just gonna be your personal fuckin' hooker? Do I get paid for this shit?"

Schlatt stilled. "I guess you can think of it that way, yeah… Everybody who lives here with me doesn't have to pay for shit, but that's just 'cause I, I dunno, I like giving shit to people I guess. It doesn’t bother me." He shrugged.

Quackity chuckled to himself. "So you'd be my sugar daddy?"

A grin spread across Schlatt's face. "Yeeeah, baby, gimmie all of that fuckin' sugar!" He gave the younger man a few pecks on the lips.

Quackity couldn't help but smile in response. "But _sir_ , I already gave you all my sugar! It's getting late, I need to sleep first."

"No, no, you put on that fuckin' suit, I've been aching to see that busty ass of yours in it."

The younger man shrugged. "I dunno, _sir_ , I think you like it when I walk around naked."

"I do, I do. Now put on the fuckin' suit."

"But I'm just gonna have to take it right off after."

Schlatt stood, bringing his gun with him. "Then I get another chance to tear your clothes off you," he growled in response.

"Oh but we _just_ fucked," he whined.

Schlatt stilled, and Quackity wondered what he was thinking. From the way the man was acting already, it seemed like he really wanted the younger man to wear the suit, but he didn't know why. Obviously his friends didn't like him walking around in his work clothes, but there seemed to be more to it than that. It looked like Schlatt was trying to figure out what to say.

Then, it apparently dawned on him. "Okay."

"Okay?"

The older man sat down. "I can't make you wear the suit, Quackity. I want you to, I think you'd look fuckin' sexy, but that's up to you."

The older man was pulling some reverse-psychology shit, which made Quackity wonder why he _really_ wanted him to wear a suit. It was almost like it was important to Schlatt for some reason. He almost felt guilty for not putting on the outfit. "Nah I don't wanna look sexy," he said, a plan forming in his mind, "so how about you get me some pajamas?"

Schlatt looked disappointed, but nodded. "Yeah okay, if you're not ready to wear the suit yet, that's fine by me."

"I guess I'm not."

"Yeah, you're not, and that's fine," the older man reasoned as he left the room.

Quackity ran straight to the door to re-lock it, not wanting Schlatt to enter while in the middle of changing. He decided that, because it was important to the guy he met that day and fucked three times, he'd wear the fucking suit. And he'd look fucking amazing in it, too.

Quackity bent down to pick up the suit from off the table, then started with the suit pants. He was glad to find a pair of tight fitting orange boxers right below it, which he quickly slid on. He picked up the belt that went along with it, a brief image of Schlatt, sitting confidently with the belt in hand, flashing through his mind. He was never really a pain kinda guy, but it would be pretty sexy for Schlatt to hold it, to pretend.

Now onto the undershirt. Quackity shrugged into it, then took careful care not to miss a button. The buttons themselves were of a diamond shape, shining black. They almost looked like they were made of an expensive metal, if they weren't so light. He shrugged on the jacket layer, the sleeves fitting tightly to his arms. The cuffs matched the buttons.

Last up was the tie, and wrapped in the cloth material, was a pocket napkin. He tied the tie using muscle memory, remembering back to the Dating House, where every Wednesday, a tie was practically the only thing he'd wear. What he didn't know how to do was fold the napkin properly, so he just guessed and folded it into a triangle shape.

Just in time, he heard the sound of someone testing the door knob.

"The fuck? Quackity, unlock the door."

The younger man double checked everything, making sure he looked fucking amazing. "Sorry sweetheart, I'll be there in a second!"

"You better open this fucking door Quackity, or I swear to god-"

As soon as the younger man opened the door, Schlatt stopped in his tracks, his expression suddenly unreadable. It was like a switch had flipped in him, as he entered the room and locked the door.

He looked Quackity up and down, and then immediately pulled off his own watch, and put it on the younger man. Schlatt showed no emotion. Quackity had no idea what the older man was thinking.

Schlatt couldn't look Quackity in the eyes, but savored his closeness. What came from the older man was barely above a whisper, and shocked Quackity to his core. "You're fuckin' beautiful."

When Schlatt opened the door, he didn't see a man. He saw a goddamn angel.

When the older man imagined Quackity in a suit, he thought of someone sexy, someone who's only redeeming quality was his fat ass.

But as Schlatt looked the younger man up and down, he couldn't help but drink in every detail.

His skin was smooth, soft. Not a single wrinkle or scar blemished what was shown, outside of the hickey Schlatt gave him during their last fuck.

The suit was a remarkably perfect fit, despite never getting the younger man's measurements. It almost seemed to fit Quackity better than it fit Fundy, complete with a perfect tightness around Quackity's backside. The way the fabric clung to every curve, the way the buttons were done and aligned perfectly… It all made Schlatt's heart dance.

Before, Quackity was just a fucking whore. Someone who was monumentally good at sex, but who didn't demand any actual respect. But damn did he respect a man in a suit. It was almost as if looking at Quackity in such an outfit shifted Schlatt's entire perception of him. He wanted to care for him, like he did Tubbo and Fundy. He wanted to make sure he was safe, and knew how to protect himself. His mind flashed with images of breakfasts and picnics and candles, and romantic outings with just the two of them.

He'd never felt so gay in his life.

Quackity spoke like he was caught off guard, but Schlatt had to question if he actually was. He wasn't fully convinced that the man was real: either someone sent to spy on him, or sent to manipulate him, or maybe Quackity was just some, massive fucked up hallucination. Or maybe he was just simply dreaming.

"Schlatt," the younger man said softly, "don't just fuckin' say that." He let out a nervous chuckle, "it sounds too much like you mean it."

Schlatt dared to glance at Quackity, who fluttered his eyes in response. That _had_ to be purposeful. There was no way someone existed who was just so attractive. He wondered if somehow, when he wasn't looking, Quackity laced his drink. He'd never experienced this before, this complete and utter charmed feeling.

No matter how he felt, though, Schlatt knew the smartest thing to do was to not let Quackity win. He cleared his throat, and steeled himself from the wave of emotions that temporarily overtook him. "No, you look gorgeous in that suit, Quackity," he said calmly.

The younger man still seemed confused, so Schlatt continued.

"I really like a man in a suit. I think it shows responsibility, business. Like, a guy who wears a suit, has an internal strength to him. It's handsome."

An astounded blush rose to Quackity's face. They both knew it was out of character for Schlatt to speak so bluntly, but when the older man thought about it strategically, it made sense. He wanted the younger man to know the truth of how Schlatt felt, but he didn't want to show any weakness because of it. He wanted to show that he could say those things without batting an eye, so that, no matter how slutty, sexy, or striking Quackity presented, it didn't effect the older man in the slightest. He was completely in control of his own emotions.

The older man threw the pajamas onto the couch, then wrapped his arm around Quackity's waist. "Let's go show you off."

"Okay you fucking simp," the younger man said. He was trying to lighten the mood, and Schlatt didn't blame him. He pushed Quackity away from him as he opened the door.

"DON'T YOU GO FUCKING SPREADING AROUND THAT GAY SHIT," Schlatt said as soon as they left his office, leading the younger man to let out a sigh of relief.

The look Schlatt had gave him was one he only saw in costumers who later admitted that they had fallen in love. He wanted to look sexy, but he didn't want to make this guy have feelings for him. He loved the gun kink, and Schlatt was very attractive, and Quackity could definitely see them getting along. But seeing that big tough man turn so soft so quick? The younger man wasn't too sure how he though about that.

"FINE, I GET IT, YOU'RE NOT FUCKING GAY!" Quackity replied as they both walked out of the room, then down the hallway to the main living area.

Sitting on the couch, having a conversation about some thing or another, was Tubbo and Fundy. As soon as they entered the space, however, the Tubbo stopped his words immediately. Fundy turned to see what the boy was looking at, and a big smile appeared on his face.

"I told you!"

Tubbo's expression was one of surprise. "Yeah, you did! Hello Quackity!"

The younger man turned mock-annoyed. "Hey Tubbo," he said as he sat down on the couch next to him, "tell your boss that it's rude to lead people on."

"Schlatt," came Tubbo's reprimanding tone, "did you lead Quackity on?"

The older man crossed his arms. "Y'know what, fuck him."

" _Schlatt_."

"No, really, I'm tired of people thinkin' I'm fucking gay. I'm sick of it. I do all the shit I can not to look like a fuckin' queer, and-"

" _Schlatt_ , we've talked about this. You know you can't say that word!"

"I'm gonna say whatever the fuck I want, because I'm not fucking gay." As Schlatt continued with his somewhat convincing ramble, Fundy caught Quackity's gaze.

 _So he's_ ** _not_** _gay?_ Mouthed the fox man with a bewildered expression.

Quackity chuckled inwardly and shook his head. _He's very,_ ** _very_** _gay._

Fundy looked at Schlatt, then back to Quackity, completely perplexed.

The younger man let Fundy to his own confused devices, and tuned back into Schlatt's rambling.

"A-and you know what," the older man said as he made his way to the kitchen, "I'm gonna say it. It was Adam and _Eve_ , not Adam and _Steve_."

Quackity burst out laughing.

Fundy looked at his empty wrist. "Gee, look at the time, it's getting pretty late! I think I'm gonna go to bed now. Goodnight!"

"Yeah sure thing. By the way, clear your schedule for tomorrow, you're gonna be hanging out with Quackity."

Fundy tisked, then whined in response, "but I'm busy tomorrow!"

"Then get ready to bring him along."

The fox man rolled his eyes. "Why can't _you_ hang out with him tomorrow?"

"I would," Schlatt pulled a box of cereal off the top of the fridge, then shoved a face full into his mouth, "but we'd probably end up fucking."

Fundy waved his hands wildly in the air. "So you're bi then. Pan, maybe? You are attracted to men in some way or another, is what you're saying."

A long pause stretched between them. "Y'know what I'm attracted to, Fundy?"

"What?" The man was on the edge of his seat.

"...Roofied amputee women."

Fundy slammed his hands down onto the couch and stood up. "And that's my cue to leave. Goodnight Tubbo, goodnight Quackity, goodnight _Schlatt_."

The three others gave their flurry of 'goodnight's' in response.

"Schlatt," Tubbo spoke up, "Schlatt, you know we'd accept you, right?" He twiddled his thumbs and looked down. Quackity noticed Schlatt's expression sour slightly. "Like, you don't have to hide anything, if you don't want to. Nobody would care. And if there was anyone who ever did care, Schlatt," he looked up with the kindest of expressions, "you have your gun to protect you."

After a moment of silence, Schlatt gave a sad smile. "You're a good kid, Tubbo."

"Thank you!" He lit up. "You say that quite a lot, and I really like it when you do. Makes me feel quite nice and bubbly inside."

Schlatt scoffed. "Yeah okay kid, it's past your fuckin' bedtime."

"Oh really? Oh man," Tubbo replied sarcastically, "I guess you're right, it is! I better get to bed soon, or else I might explode or something!"

"Yeah, you probably will."

"Holy hell, I must be going then!" The boy stood up. "Goodnight Schlatt, goodnight Quackity!" He made his way out.

Quackity mulled over the conversations that just took place, wondering if he should say anything. He eventually decided it wasn't his place, and stood up. "I think I'm gonna go to bed too."

"Quackity?" Schlatt spoke up.

 _Fuck._ The younger man had a fairly decent idea of what he'd say next.

In the same tone of voice people had when they confessed their love to Quackity, Schlatt continued, "I hope to god you suck me off tomorrow morning."

Quackity stilled.

"I consistently get just terrible fuckin' morning wood. It would suck if you didn't help me out with that shit."

The younger man couldn't help but chuckle, both relieved and humored. "Well, we wouldn't want poor wittle baby Schlatty to wake up with a boner, now would we?"

"I can still shoot you."

_"Oh no!"_

"Oh that’s right, I forgot, you get off on that shit."

"Yeah? Well, _so do you_."

Schlatt made his way out of the kitchen. "You fuckin' take that back."

Quackity snickered. "Looks like it's past the wittle baby's bedtime, he's getting cwanky!"

The older man immediately got close, pulled out his gun, and put it under the younger man's chin. "Fuck you, my bedtime isn't for another five minutes."

"Oh," he whispered, "sorry… Do you need me to read you a bedtime story?"

Schlatt removed the gun. "Do you wanna sleep with me or take the couch?"

"Sleep with you? We're not fucking married."

"Do you want to be?"

Quackity sighed. "Jesus fucking christ man, I'll take the couch."

"Fine," Schlatt turned away indignantly, "I'm not disappointed."

"Good."

With the same tone, he continued, "goodnight Quackity."

"Goodnight, Schlatt."

As the older man left the room, Quackity collapsed onto the couch, too exhausted to change out of the suit.

What the fuck did he get himself into?

Why was this man already in love with him?

And why didn't he mind?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not a fan of people who post reference pictures for their fanfictions but this reference image I used for Quackity looks so much like him I just had to skdjfhdjk you don't have to look at it if you don't want. 
> 
> https://www.menssuitstips.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/05/Three-piece-black-men-suit.jpg


	5. How Fundy Became a Member of the White House

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little bit of a trigger warning for a closeted gay using 'gay' and 'queer' as an insult.

"I have a dream."

Fundy stood in the back of the L'Manburg seating area, watching what seemed history unfold before him.

"Look, a few years ago, I took a break from this city. I thought to myself 'I'm gonna go, settle down away from all this, and when I come back, it's gonna be better. Things will have changed.' But now I see it was a mistake for me to leave."

With every word spoken, the fox man felt more and more encouragement rush through his veins. This is exactly what he needed to hear. This is exactly what L'manburg needed.

"I've seen how the other side lives, and you know what? I don't think we can achieve anything close to it with the way Manburg is today." Schlatt leaned against the podium. "What? I missed the 'L' in 'L'manburg'? Well that's our problem, isn't it?" He slammed both hands down, and screamed, "WE SHOULDN'T BE TAKING ANY FUCKING L'S."

The crowd erupted into cheer, and Fundy couldn't help but applaud with them. This was a huge thing for Dream City's population. No one had come fourth to _officially_ claim ownership of a certain part of land, especially not someone with so much power. Schlatt had been one of the city's largest crime lords for some time now, so he had connections going every which way. He didn't know that guy was so passionate about the state of the city though. And honestly? Fundy really liked what he was saying.

"My dream, a dream of a better city, won't end with Manburg. But it needs a place to start. So this is just to let everyone know: if you want better healthcare, fuck, any healthcare at all," he began pacing up and down the stage, "if you want off these fucking streets, if you want to feel even a modicum of safety… Tell your friends about me. Tell 'em you support me. We could really use your help."

As the speech ended, Fundy remembered just why he was here. His eyes flew across the crowd, looking for Tubbo. Apparently Tommy and him had something planned, and Fundy was supposed to escort him back to Tommy's place. He never really got why Tubbo needed an escort, why he couldn't just leave on his own, but whatever. He caught a glimpse of the boy greeting Schlatt behind the podium.

Fundy stalled. He knew he should be stealthy. Wave Tubbo over from across the way, catch his stare from afar. But, y'know, it would probably be even stealthier if he went up to Tubbo directly, and _pretended_ he was interested in Schlatt's campaign. He'd only be pretending, after all. It's not like he was actually interested in what the man had to say.

He made his way past the podium's curtains, and knocked on the side of the wall to get their attention. Tubbo jumped in surprise, looking from Fundy to Schlatt, back to Fundy. "W-Fundy! Wot are you doin' here?"

Schlatt had a disdainful look on his face. "Who the fuck is he?"

Tubbo moved towards Fundy in a supportive manner. "He's my friend! Fundy, this is Schlatt, a.k.a. the future president of Manburg, and Schlatt, this is Fundy! He's really good with computers!"

Fundy would have been taken aback by Tubbo's sweet introduction if Schlatt hadn't opened his mouth. "I don't trust him. He looks kinda gay."

"Schlatt!!" Tubbo smacked the older man on the arm. "That's quite mean!"

"He does! Look at him! He looks like a fuckin' furry!"

"Schlatt!"

Fundy had so many questions rolling around in his head. President?? You couldn't be president of a section of a city, that didn't make sense. Why did Tubbo spend so much time with 'the president' if he was like _this?_ He knew Tubbo was supposed to be a 'spy', and maybe that's all it was, but Fundy always had his doubts. He pulled the boy closer to him. "Let's go, Tubbo."

Schlatt held his hand out. "Wait wait wait, hold on, where are you taking him?" He produced what looked like a wine bottle, then took a gulp of it like one would drink beer.

Fundy looked away awkwardly. "That's none of your business."

"I'm going to go hang out with a friend," Tubbo replied, and then promptly left. 

Not wanting to stay there any longer with this weird man, he followed quickly behind.

Once they were out of the main podium area, Tubbo spoke up. "That's a shame. I thought you two would get along."

Fundy just had to laugh. _"Get along_?? He called me gay, and then he called me a furry, and then he tried to stop you from leaving!!" He scoffed. "And here _I_ thought he was a guy who wanted to do something better for this city. Turns out it was all bullshit."

"Well, no, he does really believe he can make a difference…"

"Oh, okay, he's just homophobic then."

"Well…"

Fundy could tell the boy had never really thought about it before, so he just let it be.

\---

The crusty old white building towered over him, the very thought of entering it was daunting beyond belief. He decided, fuck it, he wouldn't enter the building. He could knock and then run and hide in his car. He could open the door from the outside, and then stand behind it. Anything to not have to actually enter the building, talk to that Schlatt guy. It had been months since he last met him, and if his first impression was any consolation, he never wanted to meet him again. While he hid in his car, hoping Tubbo would just walk out on his own, he saw the door open. But it wasn't anyone he expected to leave. Instead, dawning a lime green suit, a smiley-face tattoo on his left cheek, was the mayor himself, Dream.

Fundy hadn't heard about _him_ in Tubbo's weekly spy reports.

Maybe it was a one-time thing, Fundy thought. Maybe the boy just hadn't gotten around to telling everyone. But _Dream_ himself coming to this place, that shouldn't be something that waited for the weekly meeting. Curiosity getting the better of him, he waited for Dream to get in his car and leave, before exiting his car and knocking on the door. A very aggravated Schlatt answered it.

"I don't-" he paused, realizing who it was in front of him. Suddenly, his tone changed to something much kinder. A look of hope dawned his expression. "Oh, shit, hi Fundy. Come on in."

"Fundy?" He heard Tubbo say from some other room. When Fundy begrudgingly walked into the white building (white house?), he spotted Tubbo in the kitchen.

Fundy observed the area. A small couch was on one end, a section of the wall was cut out to reveal the kitchen, but other than that and a couple of doors, the living room was as plain as it could possibly be. "You don't seem very decorative, Schlatt."

"Yeah, well, I like to keep things simple," the man said, then looked to the side. He seemed like he wanted to say more, but stopped short out of embarrassment.

Tubbo entered the living room. "Fundy, Schlatt has something very important he'd like to say."

Fundy stilled, having zero idea what to expect.

Schlatt let a deep breath out, as if trying to work himself up to something. Fundy still had no idea what. All he hoped for was an apology, but he very highly doubted it from this man. At least from what he had seen. Finally, the man spoke. "Look," he let out another awkward breath, "I didn't know… I didn't know how fucked it was for me to say what I said when we first met," he looked towards Tubbo, who gave him an approving nod, "and I know now that even if you are what I said, I guess it doesn't matter… I'm sorry for calling you a furry."

"Schlatt," Tubbo guided.

"And gay, but y'know, I think everybody's a little bit gay-"

"Schlatt." He reprimanded again. 

"But it wouldn't matter either way! Fuckin' christ Tubbo, I'm sure this Fundy guy isn't such a dumbass that I gotta spell it out for him."

Fundy's brain was split in two. He wanted to ask about Dream! The literal mayor, being here, in the middle of nowhere! He didn't expect to be bombarded with what sounded like a heartfelt apology. And y'know what, he didn't care. So what if Schlatt improved as a human being, it didn't account for him talking to _Dream_ , probably the most ruthless man in the entire city.

Schlatt held out his hand. "Anyway dude, any friend of Tubbo is a friend of mine." Fundy stared at the hand for a moment.

"Nnnmaybe I'll accept your apology, if you tell me why the hell Dream was here."

The man pulled his hand away and shrugged. "Yeah he comes by every once and a while. He's a big fuckin' pain in my ass that's all you need to know."

 _Every once and a while._ That meant Tubbo was hiding this information from the start. How bad of a person does one need to be for the literal _mayor_ to be a pain?? Fundy's mind was reeling.

"W-B-Why though??" He looked towards the boy, who still had a prideful expression on his face from Schlatt's apology, "Tubbo," he pleaded.

"Why the fuck are you askin'?"

He guffawed. "Well, the most dangerous person in the city just left the building my friend was in. I'm sorry, but I'm a little worried!"

"Tubbo? Dream's not gonna do shit to Tubbo. If he did," Schlatt immediately pulled out a gun, and cocked it, "I'd shoot him in his fucking face."

Fundy put his hands up in defense. "Woah, woah, let's not start waving that thing around. C'mon Tubbo, let's go."

Schlatt put out his hand in front of the boy. "Hey dude, nobody's in any fuckin' danger around here. I make sure of that."

"How am I supposed to believe that, mister, 'guy with a gun.' "

"Hey man, everybody needs a little somethin' to protect themselves."

"I don't."

"Then what do you do if you get into a fight?"

"I dunno, run I guess."

Schlatt sighed, holstering his gun. "Fuckin' coward."

"Whaat," Fundy whined, "I'm a computers guy, I don't just go out and pick fights."

The expression on the man's face was one of shock and awe. "Holy fuckin' shit you _are_ a queer."  
"Hey!"

"Schlatt!" Tubbo scolded.

"No, no," Schlatt pushed Tubbo aside, "I'm not letting you leave with somebody who can't protect you." He made his way to the couch, and pulled a pistol out between two cushions. He handed it to Fundy. "Here, if you get into trouble, flip this, point it at somebody, 'n pull the trigger." He took a step back, and let Tubbo move towards Fundy, _"then_ you can fuckin' run. _"_

Fundy didn't like having the gun in his hand. Wilbur encouraged nonviolence, but the act of giving the weapon was strangely kind. He didn't like Schlatt, like, at all, but Fundy could tell the man cared for Tubbo. Maybe that's why he stayed around Schlatt so often?

Fundy accepted the gun and quickly got him and Tubbo out of there. He wanted to talk to the boy alone.

\---

"I'm telling, you, just spend, like, ten minutes with him, right? And you'll see exactly what I mean."

It was the next day, and Tubbo had persuaded him into being the one who drove him to Schlatt's to do homework. Usually Tommy would do It, but then they had to park a mile away and make Tubbo walk on his own. With Fundy driving, since he had already met Schlatt, he could drop Tubbo off right up front.

"I dunno man, I don't like him."

Tubbo nodded, but pushed on. "He has a bit of a rough exterior, I'll admit, but he's quite nice once you get to know him."

"Tubbo, he called me gay, and then he called me a furry."

"Well, I mean," he looked to the side, "you _do_ like wearing fox things."

"What's wrong with liking foxes!! And that's like, pins, and stickers, and sometimes _, sometimes,_ if I'm feeling special, _maybe_ I'll put on some ears." Fundy decided not to mention the tail he had in the back of his closet for emergencies only.

"I dunno, sounds a bit like a furry to me."

"I'm _not_ one though!!" He whined, pulling into an empty lot in front of the white building.

"Maybe we can ask Schlatt!"

"We're _not_ asking Schlatt."

"Besides," he exited the car, "even if I was a furry, which I am _not_ , it doesn't automatically mean I'm gay."

"Well obviously," Tubbo got out of the car as well, then headed straight for the door, "but I explained that to him, and he said he was joking."

"Yeah, right."

"And I made him apologize!"

Fundy scoffed. "Yeah, he _apologized_ , and then he pulled out a gun."

Tubbo opened the front door. "To be fair though, he does that quite a lot."

"Tubbo," Fundy clarified, "I really don't think you should be hanging around this guy so much if he's gonna do things like that." He glanced around the room, and spotted Schlatt in the kitchen. He gave Tubbo a sympathetic look. "I'm gonna come and get you a little early today, okay?"

The boy wasn't giving this up. "Well if you're going to be early you might as well stay," he argued, as he sat down on the couch and put his backpack on his lap.

"Hey Fundy," came Schlatt's voice from the other room, more casual than usual. It was suspicious.

"Hello _Schlatt_ ," Fundy replied, adding a distaining tone to the man's name. "How are _you_ today." He noticed the man had a box full of cereal with him.

He stuffed a handful in his mouth, and continued to speak without fully chewing. "I bought you a suit."

Fundy's mind was immediately filled with utter and complete confusion. "Why did you buy me a suit?? I didn't ask for a suit???"

Tubbo immediately spoke up, "it's like a thing, Fundy!" He sat down on the couch, "all the powerful people wear suits. Don't you want to be powerful, Fundy?"

Fundy immediately thought back to Wilbur's preaching's about peace. About how the person in charge should want to help the community grow, not keep it under his thumb. With the way Schlatt spoke, he seemed like a direct example of everything his dad fought against. "I'm not wearing a suit."

"Aww-"

"Tubbo, it's fine." Schlatt made his way out of the kitchen, "you don’t force somebody to wear a suit."

The boy pulled some papers out of his backpack. "Well okay, I guess that makes sense."

"…Well, I'm leaving." Fundy turned around to go, but not before Tubbo and Schlatt exchanged a look.

The older man stepped forward. "Okay, okay, look man," Fundy turned back around to face the guy, "stay there for one goddamned second," he said, before immediately leaving the room.

Fundy gave Tubbo a look. The boy gave him an even harder one in response.

Schlatt came back with a folded up suit in his hands, and Fundy immediately recoiled. "I told you, I'm not wearing a suit!"

The older man put one hand up in defense. "Fuck- yeah I get that, dumbass." He dropped the outfit onto the couch, then unpinned a tiny, silver fox brooch from the suit jacket. The pin itself was a fox silhouette, carved into what looked to be silver, but may have been some other expensive-appearing metal. It was complex enough so that one knew the figure was distinctly vixen, but simple enough that it would not look out of place in a professional outfit. Schlatt handed it to Fundy, who was temporarily enamored by it's design. "Look," the older man began, "I'm really fuckin' tryin' here. I don't give a shit if you're a furry, or if you just really like foxes, or if you're fuckin' gay… shit, just give me a chance. For Tubbo."

Fundy looked at the pin for a second longer as questions raced through his brain a mile a minute. "Why do you care? Why me? Why Tubbo? Why put in so much effort for someone who _doesn't like you_?"

The more questions Fundy asked, the more shameful Schlatt looked. When the last question was uttered, however, his face contorted in rage. "BECAUSE NOBODY FUCKIN' LIKES ME."

Fundy jumped back, startled at the sudden outburst.

"You've seen it, Fundy. I give shitty first impressions. I wave my gun around like it's the goddamned American flag. I have a fucked up sense of humor, because I don’t give a shit about what other people think." He gestured to Tubbo, who was watching the situation unfold with bright, excited eyes. "But if Tubbo - and you know Tubbo, he doesn't let shit go easy - if Tubbo thinks we'd make good friends, hell, good _acquaintances_ , I'm willing to put in the goddamned effort."

As much as Fundy wanted to believe the words, he couldn't. He just kept reflecting on the man's speech, on how he said he'd made Manburg a better place to live, and how the area was worse off than ever. "What about your dream?"

"The fuck you talkin' about?"

"When I first met you, you stood on a stage, and talked about plans to make Manburg a safer place. If you were lying about that, then how am I supposed to believe-"

"I wasn't lying, Fundy," Schlatt said dejectedly, "I just didn't know where to start."

As sad as the older man's response was, Fundy couldn't help but find it bullshit. "So you pick a place to start and run with it!"

"I've thought about everything."

"Have you gotten in contact with hospitals? People who actually _like_ helping the poor and needy?"

"Nobody will return my calls. You've seen this place, it's a fucking legal nightmare waiting to happen."

"What about a non-profit? You could get a bunch of environmental people here to plant things, make everything look a bit nicer!"

"Any not-for-profit bitches would be torn to shreds here. This place is a fucking hellhole."

"What about setting up just a nice little building. There's an empty lot down on 4th street, maybe you could-"

"I don't have the funds to build an entire fucking building, Fundy."

"Oh, oh, but _I_ thought you and Dream were buds! Surely _he_ could give you _something._ "

"Dream won't give me shit, he likes this dump the way it is."

"Oh but you have enough for _suits_ and _pins_."

"Have you ever considered that's all I have the fuckin' money for??" Schlatt stepped towards Fundy. "I have connections, I have people who're afraid of me, but I don't have any fucking money, Fundy. Everything I can't afford I steal. You can't steal an entire fucking build team."

"Okay," Fundy pressed, "then use those 'connections' you're talking about."

Schlatt sighed, then sat down on the couch. Tubbo scooched to the side to be more comfortable, but he had a curious look on his face, listening intently. "I am."

"And, what, they aren't helping?"

"…I'm not gonna tell you shit right now, Fundy. Maybe later, when we become closer, or maybe never, I don't fuckin' know. That's information I can't afford to let get out right now."

Fundy sat on the couch next to Schlatt, and criss-crossed his legs so he could face the man directly. "If you tell me tell me what your plans are, so I know you're not just some psychopath who's really good at lying, I _promise_ I'll start to hang out here."

Schlatt looked away uncomfortably.

"Schlatt!" Tubbo whispered from behind them both, "you should take the deal!"

Fundy noticed a small smile hint at the corner of the older man's lips when Tubbo spoke.

"Okay," Schlatt turned back to Fundy, "how about this: Tubbo has a history final, so he's gonna need somebody to drive him here for the next few days so I can help him study. Take the suit, and tomorrow, if you have it on, I'll tell you what my plans are. If you don’t immediately go out and tell the fuckin' world, _then_ you can come and hang out here."

Fundy took a second to mull over the offer, the idea colliding with Wilbur's teachings of peace. But he was making peace with Schlatt, by putting on the suit. Besides, Fundy didn't have to attribute it to power, and even still, he could probably get away with just wearing it once. Plus, he could gain knowledge that he doubted Tubbo had given in meetings. Even though the boy had convinced him not to tell everyone about Dream, this additional information could be even more important. He nodded. _"Okay, fine."_

"Yeah?"

"I guess."

Schlatt let out a cheer. "Hell yeah baby! The fox fucker's wearin' a suit!"

 _"I don't- I don't do that to foxes! I just like them, okay?"_ Fundy whined.

Tubbo piped up, "Fundy said he likes to put on fox ears! Does that make him a furry?"

_"I never said that!!"_

"Oh, I bet he has a tail and shit too."

"I'm _leaving_." Fundy stood up.

"I can't wait to see you in a suit, fox fucker!"

 _"Stop calling me that!"_ He cried, making his way to the door.

Tubbo called out, "you're still picking me up at eight tonight, right?"

"Yeah yeah, of course I am."

The boy gave an appreciative smile as Fundy left the building.

Schlatt and Tubbo sat in silence for a few seconds. Tubbo stared down at his hands, a massive smile stretching across his cheeks. Schlatt had _two_ friends now. Two of them! Tubbo had found the angriest, loneliest, kindest, most passionate man in all of Dream City, and _gave him a friend_. He wondered who else would like to hang out with Schlatt, but he couldn't think of anyone off the top of his head. It didn't matter. Schlatt had two whole friends! And Tubbo didn't do all the work, either. The fox pin was Schlatt's idea, and it _worked!_

He felt the man in question nudge him with his elbow. "The fuck are you smilin' about?"

Tubbo looked up at him, watching Schlatt's harsh expression immediately fade. "You made a friend! I'm proud of you!"

The older man looked away, covering his face in his hands. After a moment or so, the rough exterior was back, and Schlatt picked up Tubbo's backpack. "Don't fuckin' distract me," he accused warmheartedly, "I know you have a final to study for. Did you finish reviewing the slides for section two?"

Tubbo grinned at the obvious change of topic. "No, Schlatt, I haven't. I don't know a _thing_ about the different colonies, or how they talked with the Indians."

"Jesus christ the educational system is shit. C'mon buddy," he stood up, "let's move to the table and get this shit started."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No smut today, I accidentally wrote 4k words of Fundy's introduction. I thought I'd just do a little intro like I did for Tubbo, but realized very quickly that Fundy wouldn't be as willing to get to know Schlatt. I also thought it'd be a bit jarring to go from wholesome dadschlatt to Quackity giving the man a blowjob, so I figured I'd just end it there. xD   
> I'm marking this fic as incomplete again since I have some Quackity x Schlatt and some expository Fundy and Quackity moments incoming.


	6. Everyone Gets Accustomed to the New Member

_"Quackity, ever since I laid eyes on you, I knew you were the man perfect for me." Schlatt held Quackity's hands in his own, and stared lovingly into the younger man's soft gaze. "The more I got to know you, your every quirk, your every impulse, the more I fell deeply in love with you. Quackity," Schlatt lowered himself to one knee, and produced from out of his front pocket a silver ring with an inlaid design made of diamonds and pearls. "Quackity, love of my life, fire of my heart… Will you marry me?"_

_It was as if the moments that passed somehow stretched into years, as the younger man mulled over the decision. The different responses he could give flashed through his mind. But he knew one thing for sure: He loved Schlatt more than anything. After what felt like centuries, he opened his mouth to give his fated reply…_

But was immediately woken from his slumber by a stumbling sound. Quackity sat up out of instinct, immediately groaning as the blood rushed to his head. He checked his watch, letting him know it was five in the morning, and then scanned the room to find what made the noise.

"Shit," the stranger cursed.

The figure was short, blond, and although the room was pitch black, he could make out what was maybe a red and white t-shirt. Whoever it was, he was young. The guy had two packpacks with him, but one of them had slipped onto the floor making a small clattering sound. He doubted anyone else had heard it.

"Tubbo?" The guy whispered in Quackity's direction.

Quackity shook his head and laid back down. "Look somewhere else, kid."

The figure stepped back, probably in surprise. "What did you do to Tubbo? Where the fuck is he?"

"Chill, man. I think he's in a back room or something." Quackity yawned, too tired to deal with whoever the fuck this was.

"Augh," the man groaned, dropped the second backpack, and went through one of the doors. Quackity watched the door, partially interested in what was going on. Soon enough, they both came back through it.

Tubbo stretched, then let out a yawn. "There's three whole hours until school starts. I'm tired, Tommy."

"Yeah, well, you know I don't like it when you stay here overnight."

"Then you could have came and gotten me earlier!"

"…I was busy."

"With what?"

"…Women."

"Well obviously that. But what were you actually busy with?"

"Well I'm not sayin' shit with that guy here," the stranger, who's name was apparently Tommy, motioned to the now mostly awake Quackity. "By the way, bitch, if you say anythin' about me bein' here, I'll-"

"Tommy!" Tubbo whispered loudly, "it's okay, he won't say anything, he's my friend."

The blond man scoffed. "Yeah, is he Schlatt's friend too?"

"Well… Maybe…"

"Then I don't trust him."

It was Quackity's turn to speak up. He raised his hands in defense. "Okay, what the fuck's goin' on here?"

"Quackity," Tubbo introduced, "this is Tommy. Tommy, Quackity."

Tommy crossed his arms. "I don't like him."'

"You haven't even met him!"

"He's wearing a suit, Tubbo. You know everyone who wears a suit is a bad guy."

Quackity leaned forward. "You callin' me a fuckin' snitch, puta?"

Caught off-guard, Tommy chuckled, seemingly comforted by the man's harsh words. "No, no, I would never."

"I think you're callin' me a snitch!" Quackity stood up.

Tommy spouted a few disgruntled mumbles, before picking up his backpack. "Alright alright, you're off the hook for now, bitch." He pointed a finger at the man, "but if you say one word to Schlatt-"

"Tommy, let's go," Tubbo interrupted, "the longer you're here, the more likely it is you'll get caught."

Tommy steeled himself, showing that he wasn't intimidated by the man. "Quackity," he asked, "who's your favorite woman?"

"Tommy, let's go."

"Right. Well, good bye, Quackity."

The man collapsed back onto the couch. "Good bye, Tommy."

As the two boys left the house, Quackity laid back down. He checked the watch again. The time was 5:05, and the younger man was wide awake. He was used to getting up fairly early, around 6, if his help was needed at the Dating House. But five am was just too early. A devious plan suddenly formed in Quackity's mind, causing him to sit up abruptly. If he was going to suffer through being awake the whole day, he'd made his new man friend suffer with him. He'd already been given the order of a morning blowjob, so what if it's a little bit early?

Quackity snaked his way through one of the doors, making his way to Schlatt's office. He doubted the man was there, but he didn't really know where to look, so he wanted to get his bearings. Quackity opened the office door, and to little surprise, the older man was nowhere to be seen. He shut the door and continued making his way down the hallway. He found a fairly rotted looking bathroom, with a shower, cheap curtain, a toilet and a sink. It looked functional, if not well used.

The next door was slightly ajar, and was probably Tubbo's bedroom. It held a medium sized bed, a nightstand, and very little else. The bed was haphazardly made, so the sheets were in the somewhat correct spots. The only thing out of the ordinary in this room was a small bee plush that was tucked under the main blanket.

The second to last door was a staircase, and the last door was locked. He looked forward to asking Schlatt what was behind it later. For now, though, he went up stairs.

There were a couple more guest bedrooms, another bathroom, and a TV room of some sort. But inside of the very last door, at the very end of the second floor's hallway, was Schlatt. The older man slept peacefully under the deep red blankets, the entire room having a hotel vibe. It was surprisingly small, smaller than some of the other guest bedrooms, but it looked to have a connected bathroom to make up for it. This room didn't even have a nightstand, just one simple, fairly small bed. When Quackity attempted to open the door wider to allow himself room to enter, the hinges creaked. The noise stood starkly against the previous quietness. In one fluid motion, the older man quickly sat up, pulled a handgun from under his pillow, and held it towards Quackity. The room was completely dark, so Schlatt had no idea of knowing right away who it was.

The younger man spoke up. "It's just me," he said disarmingly, attempting to calm the man down. It seemed to work, as Schlatt lowered the pistol.

"Come to suck me off?" He asked, motioning to the now visible boner tenting his pants.

Quackity strutted closer to the bed. "Yes I have, sir!" He grinned, knowing Schlatt had no idea what time it was. The older man collapsed back onto the bed, then raised his gun lacklusterly in Quackity's direction.

Starting from the base of the bed, the younger man reached his hands out onto Schlatt's thighs, then moved his palms upward as he climbed over the footboard. "So?" He attempted to make quiet conversation, "did ya have any dreams?"

Schlatt draped his arm over his eyes. Tiredly, he said, "I uh, I had a dream where you shut your goddamn mouth."

"Oh, yes sir, yes sir," he teased, and then quickly lowered his head to the older man's cock and closed his mouth around it, earning a pleasured sigh. He bobbed once up and down, before pulling off and continuing to attempt conversation. "Oh c'mon, everybody has dreams!"

Another sigh came from Schlatt, and he attempted to change the subject. "Fuck, Quackity, I'm exhausted. What time did you wake me up?"

As a distraction, in order to not answer Schlatt's question, the younger man leaned down and licked a line from the base of Schlatt's cock to the top, then sucked hard on its head. He expertly drilled his tongue into the tip of the older man's member, causing Schlatt to let out an involuntary moan.

Quackity continued to push, massaging the older man's inner thighs as he spoke, "It sounds like you had a dream and you're just not telling me about it, sir."

Schlatt quieted. Although the room was dark, Quackity could barely make out the older man's expression. He seemed almost uncomfortable, and the younger man wondered if Schlatt had had a nightmare. It wasn't really his place to ask, both in that he'd only known the man for a day, and that he was currently giving him a blowjob. But he was curious.

Before he could ask anything else, however, Schlatt spoke up, his tone accusatory. "Did you have any dreams?"

For a brief moment, Quackity had to think about his answer. Then he remembered what he'd dreamt about that night. He immediately cracked up, his head falling onto Schlatt's thigh. He was thankful the older man couldn't make out the awkward blush that rose to his cheeks. "…N-no-"

"Oh did 'chuckles' have a good dream?" Schlatt teased.

Quackity shook his head, both thankful that something lighter had come up, and embarrassed that he'd had that dream in the first place. "No, no, I don't dream I don't dream. I've never dreamed a day- a night in my life, no sir."

The older man lifted his gun. "I think you should tell me."

"Well okay," Quackity shrugged, a tease to his voice, "if you don't want me to suck you off, and tell you about my dream instead-"

"Hey hey hey, bitch, you know what you're good for, and it ain't talking."

"Well you said you wanted to hear about my dream, so-"

"Shut the fuck up." Schlatt quickly pulled the younger man's face closer to his own, then leaned down to give a quick peck on the lips. He then pressed the gun against Quackity's skull. "Suck, bitch."

"Why'd you kiss me like that?" The younger man chuckled as he lowered himself back to Schlatt's stiff member.

The older man scoffed. "I don't want your goddamned morning breath. That's fuckin' disgusting."

As desperately as Quackity wanted to blow right into Schlatt's face after that statement, he resisted the urge, since he wouldn't want the same thing done to him. Instead, he focused back to the hard cock in front of him.

Quackity began by reaching both hands up to the base of the member, warming the area while his mouth gently kissed the tip of the member. Keeping his lips where they were, the younger man began to move his hands up and down Schlatt's length.

"That's not sucking," the older man complained, pointing the handgun more accurately.

Quackity rolled his eyes. "Patience, niñito," he said, without stopping the movement of his hands.

It didn't take long for Schlatt to begin showing signs of a pending orgasm. His hands clenched, he started thrusting his member into the younger man's hands, his breathing became heavy.

So Quackity removed his hands.

"Don't you fuckin' do this again, bitch. You goddamned cunt, you shitty little…" the words that spilled out of the desperate man would have been threatening if it weren't for the needing undertone in his voice.

Even still, Quackity new of the perfect way to shut him up. Stabilizing himself on Schlatt's thighs, the younger man's mouth plunged onto the member, the taste of pre-cum getting stuck on his lips. He bobbed his head down as fast as he could, and sucked as hard as he could. Needless to say, the deep groan that emanated from Schlatt couldn't have come sooner, and Quackity felt the warm stream of seed his the back of his throat. Quackity made sure to swallow every bit.

A comfortable silence fell between them. The older man laid back, basking in the afterglow of the orgasm, and Quackity had settled into a comfortable position on top of Schlatt, tracing letters onto the man's chest.

Eventually, the younger man spoke up. "So what'd you dream about?" He asked softly.

He sensed the older man still, before replying with an even tone, "you first."

Quackity instantly realized that he didn't want to reply with the truth. But at the same time, if he spun a lie, and then Schlatt told him his real dream, he'd feel pretty guilty. He decided to change the subject instead. Chuckling at the awkwardness of the situation, he replied, "w-why don't we get some breakfast, hmm? Yeah, no, let's get some eggs or somethin'."

"Sure, sure, yeah, eggs." He sat up.

Quackity then remembered the time, and snickered again. "Although I wouldn't want to wake anybody up, it's pretty early."

Schlatt shook his head. "Nah, Fundy sleeps until ten, it doesn't matter how early we get up, it's always gonna be too early for him, that furry bitch."

"Oh, okay," the younger man nodded, "so getting up at five-thirty is fine-"

Schlatt quickly grabbed Quackity's wrist, positioning the watch that adorned it in a way the older man could see. He collapsed onto the bed. "Wake me up in an hour and a half."

"Well what the fuck am I supposed to do?"

As if to answer the question, the older man reached up and wrapped on arm around Quackity, pulling him down to the bed. Quackity moved to try and escape his grip, but it was no use.

It was a weird feeling, being cuddled by a tired man. He'd never experienced it unless he was being paid, but even then he was always the big spoon.

But with being in this position, warmed by the older man, he felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him. Like Schlatt's tired energy was being syphoned into Quackity. Too fatigued to think too much about it, the younger man curled up in Schlatt's arms, the soft affection lulling him into a state of unconsciousness.

-

Schlatt never really fell back asleep after Quackity came in, both because his mind was reeling from the energy the orgasm provided, and simply because he had trouble getting to sleep in general. He clenched his teeth, the thought of the recurring nightmare still throbbing in his brain.

_"You're going to make such a great villain, Schlatt," the familiar voice whispered in his ear._

_Schlatt stepped back. "Hey man, I don't wanna be a part of that shit. I wanna make this place better, not let it go to hell."_

_A chuckle echoed between his ears. The voice replied, "oh Schlatt, in love with someone who wants to cause you nothing but suffering."_

_Shadows began to surround them both, the edges of Schlatt's vision being drowned out by a pain he'd never experienced before. The older man stilled. "H-hold on, what the fuck are you-"_

_"You think I was serious when I said all that before?" The voice scoffed. "You think anyone could ever love you?"_

Schlatt shut his eyes as tight as he could and flung himself out of bed before the memory could continue. He had to deal with that shit almost every night, he didn't want to let it follow him to his day-to-day routine. Besides, he had eggs to make.

The first thing the Schlatt did when he exited the room was fly downstairs, and check what time it was. Eight AM was late enough to stay awake, even if he'd have preferred to wake up a little bit earlier. He walked to the kitchen and made himself a bowl of cereal, and as he absentmindedly stared off into the kitchen table, he remembered something: Tubbo had school.

He made his way to the boy's room, finding it empty, save for the bee plush Schlatt had gotten him. He quickly made his way outside to see if he could catch the boy leaving, but he was nowhere in sight. What time did the boy wake up? When did he leave? How did he get there? Schlatt knew the school was close by, but Tubbo would still have to walk there on his own. Maybe someone came and got him? But no one Tubbo knew was allowed in or near the house. Had Fundy taken him? But Fundy always slept in late. Although he has taken him before. Maybe Quackity drove him, and that's why he was up so early. But Schlatt didn't know what the younger man did in order to protect himself. He wasn't very strong, and likely wouldn't be able to take the initiative in a fight. Schlatt wanted to show that whoever protected Tubbo would always be quick to attack. People feared those who were a bit more unstable.

"Where the fuck are my eggs, man?" Quackity's voice spoke out against Schlatt's racing thoughts.

Schlatt's voice was harsher than he meant it to be. "Did you hear Tubbo leave?"

The younger man stilled. "Yeah, why?"

"Was he with anybody?"

"…no?"

"Shit," Schlatt muttered under his breath. He'd gone to school alone.

The older man fumbled in opening his flip phone, then weighed his options. If Tubbo was at school, unharmed, he was probably in the middle of class. The ringer was fairly loud, so he'd have to interrupt the teacher, and leave class. Schlatt knew Tubbo wasn't the best at school, so the older man didn't want to be an excuse to stop paying attention. He could try texting, but if the boy was kidnapped, then someone else could steal his phone and reply. Plus, if he was at school, he could be caught texting in class, and get in trouble. There was only one thing to do.

Schlatt pulled out his keys from one of his pockets, and promptly left the building.

"What's- …wrong." Quackity couldn't get his question out fast enough before Schlatt left the white house. Did he say something wrong? Was Tubbo not allowed to leave? Maybe it had something to do with the older man's bad dream. Whatever it was, Quackity planned to ask Fundy later. In the mean time, he poured himself a bowl of cereal, sat down at the table, and went over his mental checklist for the day.

He thought about finding someone to help move his things here, but he really didn't feel like moving in just yet. He'd only known the man for a day, he wasn't going to uproot his life just for him.

He pondered going back to the Dating House and continuing to work there, but if Schlatt was willing to pay for everything, he didn't want to work if he didn't have to. He supposed he should test the older man, to see if he was really open to buying whatever Quackity wanted. Maybe he'd see if Schlatt would pay for his rent. It'd be a bit early, but whatever. If the older man didn't want to pay for Quackity's rent, then that just showed Schlatt wasn't as much of a 'nice guy' as he projected.

No matter what, though, Quackity still had to get his stash from the House. He'd sell whatever drugs he came across under the table, both for extra cash, and to make the participants more willing to pay for Quackity than the other workers. It was a little bit scummy, he had to admit, but he had to get enough money to survive somehow. It brought in more customers overall, so who were they to complain?

Even so, he didn't want to move his stash either, in case whatever Schlatt had planned didn't work out. Which left him with absolutely nothing to do this morning.

There was still that locked door he found earlier today. He might as well try and get into that.

\---

Schlatt couldn't help but feel anxious. It was his Tubbo, after all. Distracting him from his racing thoughts, his stomach growled. He was hungry, too. A vision of school food flashed before him, and he wondered if there'd be time to go in and get some. Not by going in front of all those kids of course, but just by maybe going through the back? His mind danced at the thought of a poor quality 2% milk mixed with a stale, single-serving box of off-brand Cheerios. Or maybe he'd steal some mass-produced scrambled eggs and hash-browns. Maybe a dry tasting, overripe apple?

As the wood-framed building came into view, the older man grew nervous once again. Something about checking on Tubbo at school felt a bit off for him. It was a bit stalkerish, he admitted, but there wasn't much else that would quell his racing mind. Part of him hated when he got like this, all worried and protective, but the mindset kept him safe. It help him stay away from everything that could hurt him. It helped him stay alive.

Schlatt parked the car in a handicap spot, figuring he wouldn't be there for very long. His watch read 8:30, and if he remembered Tubbo's schedule right, the boy would be in biology. Thankfully, biology would be an easy class to peer though the window in, since everyone would likely be standing and working on some sort of experiment or another. At least, those were the parts Tubbo told Schlatt about when he came back from school.

The older man snaked around the side of the building, eventually finding the boy sitting at his desk, absentmindedly scribbling in his notebook. At least he was sort of paying attention.

Sitting next to him, typing away on his phone under his desk, was Tommy. Fucking Tommy. Schlatt hated how close he was to Tubbo. If the older man had known Tubbo was Tommy's 'best friend' when they had met, Schlatt wouldn't have given him the light of day. Tommy was a big part of that whole fucking peace cult Wilbur had cooked up. The entire ruse was fucking immoral.

Schlatt shook his head, steeling his brain to think instead about the incoming stale school food. The older man had no idea where the cafeteria was, but one good thing about wearing a suit is no one would suspect him in a place like this. He looked like one of the teachers, or maybe a parent, or possibly even a vice principal. He couldn't be mistaken for the principal, though. Everybody knew Principal 'KSI', mister, 'Knowledge, Strength, Integrity' himself. Schlatt smirked when he saw a poster of the man on a nearby corkboard, of him flexing his muscles behind the three righteous keywords. It was a good message to send the kids, despite Tubbo telling him the man himself was a meme at his school.

At the same time, as Schlatt found the food court, he heard a younger female voice from around the corner. "You haven't updated your Snapchat streak with me yet!" The girl whined.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry," the voice that responded forced Schlatt to grit his teeth and pull out his gun. It was Tommy. "There are a lot of women I have to keep my score up with, but I can guarantee you're the most important- well, second most important… Maybe third, you know, I talk to a lot of women-"

The girl let out an angered sound. "I hate men like you."

Schlatt tried as best as he could to ignore the two, as he snatched an unhealthy number of Rice Crispy treats onto a paper plate. Thankfully, no server was there to stop him.

"Hey, hey, I hate men like me too. See," his voice sped up immensely, "I was just too focused on school, but I was afraid to tell you incase you thought I was a nerd, and, and, but I'm not a nerd, right? I'm just married to the _grind_ , that is. So really- _oh you fuckin'…_ " Tommy's voice darkened. "Let's talk later. I'll keep my streak up with you, I swear."

"You promise?"

"…Yeah." He said absentmindedly.

Schlatt heard footsteps heading in his direction, and sighed, preparing himself for the inevitable discourse that would ensue. He took a chug of milk like it was a shot of whiskey.

Tommy called out to him. "Hey you!"

The older man tried his best not to growl. He kept his gaze focused on one out-of-place looking hash brown, as he attempted to calm himself.

"I'm fuckin' talkin' to you, bitch."

Schlatt turned around, making sure his voice came out as even as it could possibly be. "The fuck do you want?"

"The fuck are you doin' in _my_ school??" The boy gestured outwards.

"Eating. The fuck were you doing with that girl?"

"Oh, OH, so you're eating AND spying? Hmm? Tell you wot," Tommy crossed his arms, "I'll give you another chance to be a good man, right now, and it’s the last chance you'll ever get."

With how jokingly the boy spoke, Schlatt knew he wasn't serious. But the fact that he could say such a thing so casually made the older man's blood boil. "Y'know what, fuck you."

"Yeah, I figured you already made your choice." Tommy uncrossed his arms and changed his stance slightly, preparing himself for a fight.

As each second passed, Schlatt found it more difficult to even look at Tommy. Memories were attempting to surface that made the hairs of his arm stand on edge out of a heightened sense of rage. Eventually, the older man pointed his gun. "I'm not gonna fight you, man."

Tommy's voice was mocking. " _Oh_ , but I thought you were 'mister president' now-"

Schlatt couldn't take it. His blood had boiled over. Using the blunt edge of the pistol, he swung it towards the boy. He wouldn't shoot his gun in a school just yet, but he would if he got desperate.

Tommy dodged out of the way, then used the lower position to his advantage, ramming into the older man from below in an attempt to knock him over.

This wasn't his first fight with the boy, and he had seen that move before. He fortified his position, and quickly pushed Tommy's head downwards, forcing his neck to an uncomfortable position to allow himself the opportunity to ram the point of the gun into the back of the boy's neck.

In an attempt to get away from the pistols' sight, Tommy lowered further to the ground, righting his head back to an advantageous position, then grabbing onto the older man's leg. He began to pull it every which way.

Schlatt tried his best to stay on his feet, but as soon as he realized that would soon not be an option, he readied for a new plan.

He fell backwards, catching himself with one hand, then when Tommy tried to get on top of him, he put the gun right into the boy's chest. What the older man didn't expect, however, was Tommy pushing the gun to the side, then using the position of the older man's arm to twist him around slightly, in order to move onto his back. Before Schlatt could think, he felt an arm being wrapped around his neck, placing him in a chokehold position.

Schlatt tried flipping Tommy over, then to the side, but nothing worked. The boy was younger than him, more physically fit. The older man had to shoot his gun, it was his last chance.

But before he pulled the trigger, he was released. He immediately scrambled to his feet. The two men locked equally furious eyes.

Tommy was the first to speak. "I don't kill people anymore, _Schlatt_." The name was laced with heavy malice.

The older man let out an irate chuckle. "Yeah, well I do." He raised the pistol up. He was out of his own head. He didn't know if he had the balls to actually kill the boy, but at the very least he could give him a scare.

"Hey, hey," Tommy put his hands up defensively, but the energy of the fight obviously still raced in his veins. "You can't kill me, Tubbo would be devastated."

Schlatt huffed. "Fine. You can't kill me either then, same reason."

Tommy looked as if he were about to retort, then rolled his eyes. "Fine. Just- go away, bitch."

The older man tipped a mini cereal bowl into his mouth. "I'm busy. Hey don't you have school?"

"It's bio. Boring."

The two men stood there, neither of them willing to move. The more the energy of the moment faded, the more awkward they both felt.

Schlatt was the first to speak. "Whole milk tastes like shit," he said, after gulping down a mini carton of it.

"Yeah, biology's almost over anyway," Tommy awkwardly replied.

"…I'm gonna go see if I can buy more two-percent," Schlatt said, referring to the milk that had tasted the best so far.

"Okay."

Waiting for just a moment before turning around, the older man began walking away.

Laced with no malice, no anger, no hatred, Schlatt heard Tommy's voice behind him. "Bye, Schlatt." It sounded like the good times. Like when they were both friends.

The older man shut his eyes tight to evade any memories coming his way. He didn't want to see the boy as anything other than how he was now. He wasn't that bright-eyed, disgustingly cute little admirer anymore, and Schlatt had to fucking accept that.

He had to move on.

-

Quackity let out an almost sexual groan of relief as he finally unlocked that goddamned fucking door. Lying on the floor, covered in various hair pins and paper clips, the younger man reminisced to a moment ago, when time stopped, and he finally got the door handle to twist all the way down.

He steeled himself for what could possibly be on the other side. As much as he wanted to sit there and ponder, he'd already done that in the first five minutes of what turned out to be an almost hour long venture. At this point, he had no idea what was waiting for him on the other side.

The brightness that attempted to welcome him when he opened the door saddened Quackity to no end. "No fucking way," he said out loud.

On the other side of this heavily locked door, was a fucking backyard. Set up were a few old lawn chairs, and far away Quackity could make out some heavily-used paper targets. "No fucking way!" He said again, completely indignant as he made his way to the tall, ugly, easily climbable fence that separated this area. He jumped it immediately, then walked with a dumbfounded expression to the front door of the fucking white house. "NO FUCKING WAY." He immediately went back through the back door, and then unlocked the front door. Then, he went from the front to the back, the back to the front, completely dumbfounded how he wasted an hour on this shit.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Fundy yawn as he leaned onto the doorframe back entrance. His speech was slurred from just waking up. "Why's this door open? Murder ninjas could come in or something…"

"Since when did you have a fucking back door??" Quackity raised his hands, gesturing to the entirety of the backyard.

"It came with the house, I think… Hey," Fundy's tired gaze set on the other opened door peeking through the hallway, "the other one's open too. That's not super safe of you, Quackity." He went to close the other door.

The previous hour of the younger man's life flashed before his eyes. The beginning, where he was gathering his supplies to ready his journey. The struggle, as he worked through each tool, eventually finding each one click into a certain position. The treacherous moment where his hand was beginning to loose strength and he thought all hope was lost. The climax, when the last bobby pin finally fit into place; the handle turned. He had defeated the lock.

Why, in all that time, did he not think to just go around outside?

"I want eggs," Fundy yawned again, calling from the kitchen.

The statement broke Quackity from his depressive spiral, and he chuckled, memories of Schlatt's 'wake up call' returning to his head. "No, no, you don’t want eggs, Fundy."

"I don't?" The fox man replied, his head scanning the contents of the bare refrigerator. Leaning over the cold box, he brought out a flip phone, and began punching in numbers.

"You don't, you don't. How about some cereal?" 

Fundy moved the phone to his ear. "Schlatt, we're out of food."

Quackity could barely make out Schlatt's distance response. "Oh, you're up earlier than usual."

"Yeah, the overflow issue is kinda bugging me. I think I'll have it fixed today though."

"Thanks, Fundy. Hey, why didn't you go with Tubbo to school today?"

"SCHLATT SINCE WHEN DID YOU HAVE A BACKYARD?" Quackity nervously interrupted, not wanting to let the conversation veer in that direction.

Schlatt chuckled genuinely. "I got it just for you, sweet cheeks," he spoke a bit louder to make sure the younger man could hear. "Just in case you wanted to try out any of that voyeuristic shit-"

Fundy interrupted, uncomfortable. "Okay, I'm gonna hang up now. Make sure to get candy canes, they should be on sale."

"I'm not gonna pay for this shit, but sure."

"… Okay bye Schlatt!"

"Bye Fu-"

The fox man closed the phone. Staring into the fridge for one final time, Fundy resolved to pull out a carton of milk and put it next to a box of cereal. He pulled out a bowl from one of the cabinets.

Quackity attempted to fill the silence. "So what did you mean by overload?"

"Umm," Fundy poured milk into the bowl, "I think my overload operator isn't working for some reason. So it's making an exploit in the Schlattcoin firewall. Did Tubbo really go to school alone?"

The younger man burst out laughing at the sudden change of topic. His mind raced with questions, deciding to test his first one. "Yes?"

"That's weird," he poured cereal into the bowl next, "he usually leaves with Tommy."

Question answered.

"But that's a secret, you can't tell Schlatt."

"No yeah," Quackity sat on the kitchen table, "he did leave with Tommy. But what's up with that?"

Fundy sat down with his bowl of cereal, the desperate craving of peppermint still in his mind. He was too tired to really talk about any of this, and it probably wasn't the smartest thing to do anyway, telling someone he barely knew about Tommy. But whatever. Worst case scenario, Schlatt finds out and goes on a murderous rampage. No big deal. Okay, maybe a little bit of a big deal. Fundy pondered what he should and shouldn't say.

Choosing his words carefully, he replied, "umm, Tubbo and Tommy are best friends, but Tommy and Schlatt have some bad history."

"Uhuh. What's the bad history?"

Fundy opened his mouth to give some lie, before he realized: He genuinely didn't know what happened. "I dunno, actually. I think one day they just started hating each other."

"… Okay," Quackity pondered, "I guess that makes sense for now… What's Schlattcoin?"

Fundy sighed, grateful to have the change of topic. "Well…"

-

"No, of course I don't have a goddamned receipt. I'm not paying." Schlatt held the cart of groceries closer to him, pointing his gun at the man blocking his way out. This whole receipt-checking thing was new, and the older man wondered why the store would implement such a heinous thing. The man pulled his gun out in return.

"Sir, you can't just leave the store without paying-"

"I can and I will," Schlatt challenged, pushing the cart further. The man ran around to block it, pulling out his own firearm.

"No, you're gonna pay for what you have there."

"I'll fuckin' shoot you."

"I'll shoot you right back-"

Out of nowhere, a group of five older teenagers ran straight by the employee. One of them pushing a cart overflowing with food as fast as it could go, one riding in the cart, another riding outside it, and two people protecting the front and back of the speeding vehicle. They all cheered as they crossed the store's threshold.

The employee temporarily stood in shock. "W-what the fuck? Shit," he ran after them, "come back here!"

Schlatt grinned at the perfect timing. He recognized a few of those kids as delinquents from the Badlands district, the unknowingly safest place in the city. It was kind of weird, how the whole place worked. There weren't any rules, but the community was just so close, and they were so unaccepting of newcomers. Additionally, the entire area was well protected. hey were all fairly adept in hand-to-hand combat, since they all wrestled against each other for fun. At least that's what Halo had told him.

'Bad Boy' Halo was the group-appointed leader of that section, and they liked him so much they named the area after his popular nickname, 'Bad Boy', which he gained from being a sickeningly nice person. Schlatt didn't trust it for a goddamned second. Even if his niceness wasn't all that it seemed, however, the man didn't even fucking swear. He owned a flower shop, in which he kept the front door unlocked in case anyone wanted to steal flowers from him, or wanted a safe place to sleep. Speaking of, Schlatt wondered if he should bring home flowers. It was a nice gesture, and he wanted Quackity to like him. He knew he was a hard man to like, so sometimes he tried to do things that made that less true. Sometimes. Besides, he hadn't talked to Halo in a bit, and he was curious to see how that whole area was doing.

Before he finished his train of thought, he was already on his way.

-

"That's fuckin' crazy dude," Quackity lied back onto the strangely comfortable carpeted floor of Fundy's room. The fox man sat staring amusedly at the blue light from one of his seven monitors.

They had gotten on such a tangent since talking about Schlattcoin.

Schlattcoin was apparently some new currency that Schlatt had created, with a system that was monitored similar to Bitcoin, but created a reward system that encouraged nonviolence. Quackity had drifted off halfway through, though, and he was completely lost when Fundy began talking about the technical aspects. But from how animated the man was, Quackity could tell Fundy really believed in it.

After talking about Schlattcoin, Fundy took Quackity to his office/bedroom to show how he'd found the firewall exploit. From that, he was explaining exploits in general. Somehow there, they had then gone to what _was_ and _wasn't_ an exploit. Now, Fundy had taken him to ground zero, and was editing the html code of a banking website.

"Right?! You should _not_ be able to do that, at least not here. It's like an exploit for grandmas!"

Quackity chuckled, but couldn't help slipping into boredom. "Uhuh, yeah man, that's crazy, that's crazy."

"Do you wanna try it?"

"Try what?" He sat up.

"Exploiting grandmas?"

The cogs turned in Quackity's brain. "What??"

"Yeah, we'll like, call people and scam them out of a little bit of their money. You can do the talking, and I'll make it look like we gave them too much- here, I have a list of potential buyers, I'll explain it to you as we go."

The younger man couldn't help but laugh. "Wait, wait, okay, hold on! Yeah, okay, wait… Yeah okay let's go let's go!"

"Yeah? You wanna?" Fundy began typing a number into his phone. The call rang, then was answered.

"Hello?" An old, innocently unknowing voice responded.

Fundy spoke, "hi, ma'am? We're from the Microsoft refund department, and you are due for a refund of 900 dollars…"

-

As soon as Schlatt parked his car, he could tell all eyes were on him. Usually, he didn't care. In fact, he expected it. But in this area, it was different. The people who lived here _really_ disliked outsiders, and Schlatt was instantly set into an alert state of mind.

When he opened the door to the brightly lit flower shop, the bell rang cheerfully. As soon as he stepped inside, it was like stepping into another universe, one of peace and joy and happiness. This was Halo's domain, the heart of the Badlands.

"Hi!" Halo answered from the greenhouse room. As soon as he got to the counter and saw Schlatt, he smiled politely. "Oh hi Schlatt! I haven't seen you in a bit."

"This is a robbery. I'm armed," he deadpanned.

Halo's voice turned mocking. "Oh, are you gonna try and point a gun in that bad form again?" He pulled out his own pistol, safety on, holding it with one hand and making sure not to point it at anyone, "oh look at me, I'm mister Schlatt and I shoot with one hand like they do in the movies-"

"Hey, okay, I do not shoot like in the movies."

"Oh, really? Oh yeah that's right, you shoot even worse! You're gonna end up with arm pains down the road if you keep aiming like that Schlatt. Besides, you're gonna have a harder time hitting anything, since-"

"Fuck," Schlatt said matter-of-factly, in an attempt to get the man to shut up. He really didn’t care for the lecture.

Bad gasped, "language!"

The older man nearly facepalmed, so shocked that such a stupid thing actually worked. "Yeah, I'm just here for the flowers so, if you could just-"

"Oooooooh?" Halo grinned, "What's his nameeee?"

The light that shined off of this man disturbed Schlatt. "First off, I'm not fuckin' gay."

"Oh. But I thought somebody said-"

"And two, it's none of your goddamned business."

"Language!"

"Jesus christ-"

"Language!"

"What the fuck-"

"Laaanguage!"

Schlatt stilled. He forgot how 'this' Halo was. Okay, if he was gonna play it that way, the older man figured he'd play along. "Okay fucker," he cocked his gun, poorly aiming it at a bundle of flowers that looked decent. "I want those."

"Language. And no, I'm not gonna give you _those_. Special people deserve special flowers."

Schlatt wasn't a fucking sap. He wasn't going to give anyone 'special flowers'. But before he could deny the offer, Halo was already in the greenhouse.

He heard a crash from through the door. "Skeppy!!" His voice reprimanded.

Skeppy's reply was hopeful. "Do you like it Bad?"

"Awe, Skeppy I love it! It's um, very creative."

The voice turned to a joking anger. "You hate it!!"

"No!!" Bad pleaded, "I love it! I'm sorry no I really really like it!"

Skeppy quieted. "You promise?"

"Yes Skeppy, I promise. Now, I have a customer up front, so I gotta-"

"Oh who is it?"

"Um, Schlatt?"

"I dunno him."

"He's um, a guy in Manburg."

"Oh, doesn't Quackity live there now?"

"Mhmm!"

"You should really talk to him."

"You're right! Do you think you can kinda find out where he is?"

"I can get Mega to do it."

"Yeah sure, that works. How _is_ Mega by the way?"

Schlatt felt like he'd been forgotten about, so he yelled Halo's name.

"Oh! Right, I'm giving Schlatt the flower."

Skeppy sounded shocked. "You mean _the_ flower?"

"Mhmm!"

"But I thought you were saving that for somebody special, y'know," Skeppy's voice became inaudible.

Halo chuckled. "Awwe, well maybe. But I think Schlatt has somebody special he'd like to give the rose to."

Skeppy stomped his foot. "But _I_ want the rose!"

"Nonono, Skeppy, see? This rose is like, totally lame compared to what I'll get you."

"Promise?"

"Yes!! You muffinhead."

"Fine. You clip the rose, I'm gonna be your bodyguard and protect you." The door to the greenhouse opened, and a man dawned primarily in a bright cyan hoodie stepped into the main store. He looked harshly at the older man. "What do _you_ want?"

Schlatt sighed, completely taken aback by the entire situation. "Fuckin', anything." He thought for a moment, the two sides of his mind arguing over whether or not he should wait it out for 'the special flower'. Eventually, he continued, "the special flower, I guess."

The blue man crossed his arms. "Who're you giving it to?"

Schlatt was about to come up with a lie, but he smirked, wondering what the man's reaction would be to the truth. "Quackity."

Skeppy gave an animated look of shock. "What???? BAD!!" He yelled into the greenhouse room, "HE'S GIVING THE FLOWER TO QUACKITY!!"

Halo immediately entered with a massive, bright red rose in hand. "Really?" He gave Schlatt a questioning look.

The older man nodded in response.

"Holy muffins. How is he!"

 _Holy muffins_. What the fuck? Was Quackity really a part of this deranged fuckin' muffin cult? "He's fine, I guess. He's actually waiting for me, so-"

Bad immediately began motioning him out the door. "Yes! Go! Tell him I said hi! Tell him to come back and that we gotta catch up! Tell him we miss his improv solos!"

 _Improv solos??_ What the fuck was that supposed to mean? "Yeah, okay." Schlatt said, as he practically ran to his car.

-

"Thank you so much, ma'am," Quackity exasperated as Fundy finished typing the Best Buy gift card refund code into his account. "Really, I'm so glad I got to keep my job, you're just the greatest." The younger man hung up, then immediately burst out laughing. "A hundred dollars, what the fuck!"

"They will give you _thousands_ , those old people."

"No wonder those fuckin' scammers have that job dude. Holy shit. I dunno about people who take so much money though, man. Maybe we could scam the scammer?"

"Bro I was just thinking of the same thing. I've had this idea in mind, where-"

Tubbo appeared in the doorway of Fundy's room. "Wot are you guys doing?"

Quackity grinned. "Tubbo! Do you want to scam scammers?"

The boy moved to sit on the floor next to Quackity. "I don't know what that is but yeah, sure."

-

Schlatt didn't know how he got so sidetracked, maybe he'd spent more time at the grocery store than he realized, but when he got home, it was already six. He unlocked the door, preparing to find someone to help him bring in the groceries. As soon as he entered the house, however, he was hit with a wave of laughter, coming straight from Fundy's room.

"Sir, sir," Quackity spoke, "I'm sorry, sir, please, please keep your anger level to a minimum, sir, I am only trying to help you with your refund. Sir…"

The voice on the other end was furious, and Schlatt couldn't help but chuckle. They were all so engrossed in the happiness they were participating in, none of them noticed the older man as he peered inside. Through the doorframe, he found two boys sitting on the floor, both hovering over a phone. Fundy was on the computer, and a bank account was on his screen that had too many zeroes to be his own. Schlatt decided to leave them to it. He could get bring the groceries in on his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS WAS TO FUN TO WRITE WHAT THE HECK  
> Fun fact: the guy in the store is Mikeal, a senior moderator on munchymc. Because why not.  
> Also here is a cool MCYT server with a lot of cool, active people: https://discord.gg/CDAWPcdeXa


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